


The Lyrian Tales

by Pantea_Ateia



Series: Tales from the Witcher Universe [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Canon Compilant (more or less), Canon-Typical Violence, Multi, Politics, Smut, Thronebreaker: The Witcher Tales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 70
Words: 74,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24213775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pantea_Ateia/pseuds/Pantea_Ateia
Summary: Destiny, random meeting and series of accidents – one could say that this is what makes a story. But, it's only a part of the truth. What makes a story is how and by whom it is told. This tale is about choices and decisions, which people were forced to make, however, they didn't want to. Still, it turned out, that their relatively small deeds may change everything.
Relationships: Coinneach Dá Reo/Original Female Character(s), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Iorveth/Saskia (The Witcher), Meve (The Witcher)/Reynard Odo
Series: Tales from the Witcher Universe [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747762
Comments: 3
Kudos: 69





	1. Genevive Birke 1258

Witcher book series related characters, places and themes belong to Andrzej Sapkowski. The Witcher games related characters, places and themes belong to CD Projekt Red. Characters, places and themes related to other works, especially by J.R.R. Tolkien and George R.R. Martin, belong to their authors or legal successors.

THE LYRIAN TALES

PROLOGUE

GENEVIEVE

Birke 1258  
Davlin  
Davlin Castle

That year, spring was coming slowly to the isle of Davlin. Slower than usually. But probably... it was just how she felt it – the last winter was not an easy time for her and her family. That day, it was noon and shy sun-rays of early spring were enlightening the grounds, as Genevieve left her castle and headed to the graveyard. She was walking slowly, reluctantly, still not ready to come to terms with her loss, but she knew, that her children were taking it even worse than her. By the time they lost their father, Sebastian was only twenty-years-old and his sister, Viera, nineteen. Genevieve knew, that many children lost their parents even at a younger age, but she had hoped, that her own kids wouldn't need to go through that. But she hoped in vain.  
Laurent... her beloved husband was only forty-five when the sickness struck him. They were fighting... gods... there were even moments when she hoped for the best, but he passed away in his sleep on the first day of winter. Sometimes there was nothing anyone could do. She knew it, but it didn't make it any easier.  
As she entered the graveyard, she found Viera and Bash sitting together on the ground in silence near their father's grave. Genevieve headed in their direction slowly and stood nearby, saying:  
“My darlings, it's still cold outside. We should get back to the castle.”  
“Yes, mum” – Viera replied, but didn't move.  
“Maybe... would you like to travel somewhere for a while?”  
“I'm leaving for Arlette's family in a few days” – Bash replied quietly.  
“And I'm going, too. To Rivia. It's time to resume my training” – Viera added and sighed.  
“OK. Then, I'll go with you and stay at the king's court for a while. Reynard suggested, that there would be a place for me if I needed... time” – Genevieve said quietly.  
“I've heard, that there may be trouble in Rivia. Brossards are stubborn and won't give up their quarrel with king Reginald easily...” – Viera said, turning around and looked at her pensively.  
“I know. We were always wary of them... But we're Lyrians... Rivians are different, your father never said it publicly but... he believed, that they lack loyalty. I agree with it. But Meve had no choice, Reginald was a good option. Lyria and Rivia are stronger together, as one kingdom” – she replied and looked at her husband's grave.

_Love is like a dream._

She still remembered the day, when he said those words to her... as they've met, twenty-five years ago on the Belleteyn night.

_Dream it with me, cause I don't want to waste another night._

She smiled gently at her memory and heard Viera's question:  
“Mum?”  
“Yes, my love?” – she asked, looking at her daughter.  
“Why did you choose these words? You've never told us.”  
“This is what your father said to me the night we've first met” – Genevieve replied slowly. – “He was a charmer, but you know it” – she chuckled warmly and continued: – “At the time, well, I must admit, that at the time I believed, that he only wanted to spend a night with me. But I was wrong. He stayed and later he stayed for good. I think, that he always knew, even by the time, when I wasn't sure. It was more than a year later, when I realised, that I was the one just... having fun, you know? But your father... I think, that he loved me from the night we've met, although I was oblivious to it for a very long time. Thankfully, he was persistent” – she chuckled again and her children chuckled, too.  
“Oh, mum...” – Viera laughed and added: – “I've always known, that it was dad, who believed in, you know, all the romantic stuff... but I didn't know, that it took you a year to figure it out!”  
“Well, it did. I was lucky to meet him. However, we both knew... that it's going to end too soon.”

Genevieve sighed and looked at her father's grave. He was also buried there, in the graveyard of Davlin castle. Ten years ago, long before his time. The land belonged to Laurent's family for generations, his own parents and grandparents were buried there, as well. When Genevieve's father was wounded and became sick... they invited him to stay with them in the castle, however, it only bought him a month. As he died... Laurent decided to bury him in his family's graveyard.  
Sebastian followed his mother's gaze and whispered:  
“I barely remember grandfather... I remember, that he was teaching us how to shoot a bow.”  
“Obviously: he was a Seidhe. He always said that you shoot with your heart, not with your eyes... This is why he only killed, what he could eat. He was... trusting and good man. You remind me of him, Bash” – Genevieve whispered.  
“Unlike me” – Viera huffed, stood up and left them.  
“Viera...” – she called her, but to no avail.

The reason behind her daughter's decision to join the army two years ago was still unclear for her. It was true, that Laurent's father served for a time, but a very short time. Laurent himself never needed to fight and he would never choose it by himself, although he was a dutiful and loyal Lyrian lord. Both her father and husband, and even her father-in-law were... peaceful people... But Viera chose the army. That made no sense to any of them. Still, both Genevieve and her husband supported their daughter's choice as much as they could. But sometimes...  
Genevieve chased after the young woman as far as to the stables. There, her daughter was preparing her mare for a ride, when her mother stood next to her and started:  
“My darling... don't leave like that. It's not what I meant.”  
“Isn't it?” – Viera asked coldly. – “Didn't you just say, that I don't belong...” – but Genevieve interrupted her quickly:  
“Don't say that, my dear daughter. Never. Do you understand me?”  
“Yes, mother.” – Viera answered, not even sparing her a glance.  
“Don't 'mother' me now” – Genevieve said strongly, but continued in a warmer voice: – “I love you, honey. I do love you, even when I don't understand you and I'm always proud of you, even when you're making different choices, than what I would wish for you.”  
“What would you have me do, then? Marry? Have children?”  
“Not necessarily, my dear. But you can do anything you choose. You can go to Oxenfurt Academy, you can travel and learn... You have so many choices, more than most, but you...” – she trailed off and Viera finished coldly for her:  
“Have chosen the army. Yes.”  
“I know... But it won't be easy for you...”  
“It's not my fault, that you are...” – her daughter started with frustration, but trailed off. This time Genevieve finished for her:  
“An inh'eid.”  
“It's not how it's called in the army, I can assure you” – Viera stated even colder.  
“How do they call you, then?” – the older woman inquired with concern in her voice, but her daughter only shook her head with irritation and growled:  
“Leave it.”  
“Viera, how?” – Genevieve demanded and the younger woman barked in the end:  
“Half-breed. This is how they call it in Rivia.”

Genevieve froze, looking at her beloved daughter's angry frown. She rarely swore, but this time she did:  
“Bloede pest!”  
“We were speaking in Common, mum. I... don't speak Hen Llinge any more...” – Viera said quietly.  
“And why is that?”  
“It's... the accent...”  
“But it's your legacy!”  
“I'm human. Otherwise... I'm no more than a pariah for most of them. So... no, it's not.”  
“I'll speak to Reynard, it can't...” – Genevieve started, but her daughter cut her short:  
“Don't, mum. I know, that you mean well, but it's my business. I'm a big girl now and I can take care of myself.”

After that statement, Viera kissed her cheek, mounted her mare and left the stables. Genevieve sat on a small bench and closed her eyes.

_Lammas 1256_   
_Davlin_   
_Davlin Castle_

_More than twenty years after they spent their first night together, Laurent's touch still left her trembling. Now, he was lying close to her, his breath was tickling the skin on her neck as they were catching their breaths, tired and satisfied. Then, he cuddled his nose in the small of her neck and smiled._

_Gods... This is why I've fallen in love with him... Those small gestures of fondness and care._

_He didn't move even an inch, as he asked:_   
_“What are you thinking about, my love?”_   
_“Hmm... you” – she whispered gently._   
_“That's interesting.”_   
_“I know” – they chuckled._   
_“Do you want to go back to the conversation we were having before?”_   
_“Viera... yes” – she moved away from him and sat up, looking in his eyes with concern. – “Have you spoken to her?”_   
_“Yes.”_   
_“And?”_   
_“She made up her mind, Viv.”_   
_“I hoped, that you could persuade her...”_   
_“If you couldn't, there was little I could do. She listens to you.”_   
_“Not this time.”_   
_“I know. But she'll be an adult very soon and she has every right to make her own decisions. She wants to serve in the army and she will.”_   
_“Maybe we can... interfere with it?”_   
_“Reynard? You want to ask him to do... what exactly, my dearest? To send her away?”_   
_“To persuade her, that she's making a mistake. It's dangerous, Laurent! And... what she may need to do sometime in the future... We both know, that it's getting more and more complicated. Aen Seidhe from the Blue Mountains... even some dwarfs... They are planning a rebellion. What then? Will she kill her own? Whatever she does... she will be called a traitor. It's not a time for people like us to choose a side! We must stay away from this fight.”_   
_“Viv... sometimes... children must learn it on their own. They must make their own mistakes...” – Laurent stated, but she interrupted him:_   
_“But..”._   
_“Let me finish” – he stopped her calmly. – “If we taught them well, and I know that we did, it is out there, where she may have a chance to make a difference. Not here: in our secluded little paradise.”_

_Genevieve sighed, but laid down next to him. That night they spoke no more._

A year and a half later, Genevieve was observing the door to the stables with unease. She still wanted to trust Laurent's judgement. She wanted to trust and have faith in their daughter. But... Viera was young and youth is a strange season: reckless, radical and violent. How to navigate through it and have nothing to ask forgiveness for later? Especially in the time of axe and sword. The time of contempt.


	2. Geralt Lammas 1264

Witcher book series related characters, places and themes belong to Andrzej Sapkowski. The Witcher games related characters, places and themes belong to CD Projekt Red. Characters, places and themes related to other works, especially by J.R.R. Tolkien and George R.R. Martin, belong to their authors or legal successors.

THE LYRIAN TALES

PART I

THE PROMISE

GERALT

Lammas 1264  
Brugge

_You will give me what you find at home yet don't expect._

~ _Something more_ by Andrzej Sapkowski


	3. Filavandrel

FILAVANDREL

Blathe 1233  
Amell Range  
near Erlenwald

Filavandrel and his two young companions were on the road for months. They've left Dol Blathanna in winter and journeyed through the mountains first South and then East in the direction of the Marnadal Stairs. He wasn't quite sure, why so far from Dol Blathanna those thoughts were still haunting him... As he looked down from their spot at green plains of Erlenwald... he almost saw faces of those, whom he lost... His family, friends... So many. And now...

_What will our future be? Is there still hope?_

Hope, which left Aen Seidhe a long time ago. Hope, which every single time turned out to be no more than irony. Which every time turned into some twisted monstrosity... To tell the truth: he wasn't even certain any more what he hoped for... What his people needed?

_To survive?_

But to survive they would need to live in a constant struggle... Starvation, cold, diseases... all of their everyday companions would be there with them as they would struggle to survive. They were the mountain people, that was true, but... before they had lived in valleys, surrounded by the mountains, bathing in their glory. They lived in plenty and prosperity, rewarded by the land and Dana Meadbh herself... Today... they were alone in the wilderness...

_To grow again?_

To take back what was once theirs, to be a People once more... To thrive and live their lives to the fullest in meadows bathed in the sun, in valleys of flowers and forests of old. To be happy again, hopeful and sorrow-less... To rebuild their monuments, their cities and their race... To hear the laughing of Aen Seidhe children again... But to grow they would need to either live among humans, under their rule and rules or...

_To push them back to the Great Sea... To destroy them as they almost destroyed us and... to take our revenge..._

Humans... the worst calamity of this Continent... The ones, who can only take, destroy and bend everything to their will. The ones, who care for no one and nothing but themselves. The ones, who polluted their world and tamed it, destroying it piece by piece in the process. Humans, who took their lands and homes, their food and water, even magic and Chaos, leaving Aen Seidhe with nothing.

_Dh'oine who only deserve to die like flies._

“Filavandrel?” – Toruviel's voice brought him back to reality and he replied:  
“Yes?”  
“How far do you want to go?”  
“Closer to the Marnadal Stairs, but for today we'll camp here.”  
“All right. And what's next?” – Coinneach joined them and sat on the cave's floor.  
“We'll meet Ginion there, he... has plans for Cintra.”  
“Plans? Is he ready for the uprising?” – the young Seidhe asked quietly, hopefully, but Filavandrel answered in a heavier voice:  
“Maybe... I asked him to conduct a reconnaissance. We'll need to do a lot of planning, but... Maybe.”  
“It's high time we fight. I've told you a long time ago, that we are ready” – Toruviel stated in a strong voice, but Filavandrel replied even heavier:  
“To die... I know, Toruviel. I know. But it's not a decision one shall make lightly, especially one in power. I know the price.”  
“We all know the price, Filavandrel. But we also know the price of doing nothing” – Coinneach stated sadly.

They travelled for a few more days West and in the end, they've made a camp near Marnadal Stairs. In the late afternoon, they were all sitting by the fire as they heard unfamiliar footsteps. Toruviel and Coinneach jumped up with bows in their hands, just before the voice of a young, human boy called:  
“Don't shoot! I... I'm just a traveller. I... mean you no harm. I just saw a fire and thought... that I won't need to travel alone, but... that was probably a bad idea. I'll leave, please.”

Filavandrel pondered for a while. A dh'oine. They could kill him with ease, but... he was just a boy lost in the mountains.

_Gods... That would be wrong, wouldn't it?_

So he sighed and called to the boy:  
“Come here, traveller.”  
“I'd rather not. Not yet” – the voice replied.  
“You found yourself in a company of armed men and you still believe, that you can set rules of this encounter? Come to the fire or my men will drag you to me by force.”

Toruviel made a few steps forward with a vicious smile, but they heard his footsteps and soon they saw the boy... But his face...  
“Curse?” – Filavandrel asked slowly.  
“Yes. Someone found it funny” – the boy replied, shame hidden in his voice.

The Seidhe was observing him carefully. The young traveller had plain travelling attire, quite worn off, too. He was unhealthily thin and his hair was mate, dishevelled. But it was his face, what made Filavandrel sigh heavily: the face resembling a hedgehog rather than a man... Then, Filavandrel inquired:  
“Who are you, boy?”  
“No-one, I'm afraid. Not any more” – he replied and Filavandrel recognised for the first time in his voice a Nilfgaardian accent as he spoke Hen Llinge.  
“Then you found yourself in the right company...”  
“But you are Filavandrel aén Fidháil, king of free Aen Seidhe. You're hardly a no-one” – the dh'oine stated in disbelieve.  
“How can you know that, boy? Who sent you my way?” – the Seidhe asked stoically, but his young companions had bows in their hands once again.  
“I've heard about you from the people, who sheltered me. “  
“You need to speak more openly if you want to live.”  
“Xarthisius spoke of you, my lord.”  
“I know him. But if so... you must be...” – Filavandrel trailed off and looked at the boy in front of him with growing interest. The boy, who was much more, than what met the eyes.  
“Duny, Urcheon of Erlenwald” – the young traveller finished quickly for him.  
“Ah... Duny we'll call you, then. What are you doing here?”  
“I travel East to meet Xarthisius.”  
“Alone?” – the Seidhe asked slowly and Duny answered quietly:  
“We decided, that it would be the safest way and... I hoped to meet you in the mountains.”  
“Me?” – this time Filavandrel asked with surprise in his voice.  
“Well... your people. I hoped for your help.”  
“And you may receive it, but there is always a price.”  
“And if I promise you my help? If I promise you, that both you and I, one day, will take what is rightfully ours?”  
“For no-one... you make a lot of promises, boy” – he replied with irony, but Duny stated passionately:  
“For no-one... you have a lot of power, my lord. The power of life and death. Once I'll take back mine... I'll give you a lot of both: lives and deaths.”

Filavandrel looked pensively at the boy before he nodded slowly. A strange meeting it may have been but also the one which may bear fruits soon.


	4. Viera Imbaelk 1263

VIERA

Imbaelk 1263  
Red Port  
Sodden

She was a young captain in Lyrian army when the news of the sack of Cintra reached Rivia. As soon as they've heard the news, the commander of the Lyrian Cavalry, Reynard Odo, decided to send a small unit to scout near Cintran borders and help refugees. Obviously, there were many more experienced captains in the cavalry and she was far from being the obvious choice for this mission, but... Her colonel knew more. He knew that in case of Nilfgaardian attack on Lyria, he'd need those unconditionally loyal to Queen Meve at his side. Viera's family came from Lyria and was known as fierce loyalists, so... the young captain Davell was appointed as a commanding officer of the scouting unit, which was ordered to head to Sodden.  
She... well... wasn't ready for the task, she didn't lie to herself about it or to him. As she found him in the stables of the Rivian palace, she started in a determined voice:  
“Colonel...”  
“Captain?” – he asked and raised his eyebrows.  
“There are many more experienced men than me... I...”  
“You have something they don't have, Viera” – he replied mysteriously, but she only raised her eyebrows and asked in disbelieve:  
“Indeed? What is it?”  
“You're a woman.”  
“I...? I'm sorry? What does it have to do with anything?”  
“You must find out as much as you can about the Nilfgaardian army before it gets to Sodden. You may get trapped and you may need to find a way out when no one would believe it possible. I always believed that it's those no one imagines anything of who can achieve the things no one can imagine.”  
“I... am not sure whether that was a compliment or an offence, colonel” – she replied and narrowed her eyes. He chuckled but replied:  
“It depends.”  
“On what?”  
“Whether I'm right or not.”

They were silent for a long time before Viera inquired further:  
“You're afraid of betrayal, aren't you, colonel?”  
“Nilfgaard... during the last years Nilfgaard has used a strange power... power of persuasion and purpose. His Imperial Majesty proved himself to be extremely skilful in telling people what they want to hear” – he answered slowly and looked her in the eyes, as she stated:  
“All I want to hear is Queen Meve talking from her throne.”  
“Exactly. And...” – he trailed off, but she inquired:  
“And?”  
“There are rumours that the Imperial Army is aided by Aen Seidhe. You...” – he trailed off again, looking in her eyes with hesitation.

Viera narrowed her eyes once more, this time almost dangerously, as she asked with irritation in her voice:  
“So, is it really about my blood? My grandfather's blood? You think, that I will do what exactly?”  
“I think that you may survive the meeting” – he answered stoically, but there was still some tension in his features.  
“How?”  
“They won't kill their own.”  
“But, I'm not...” – she replied quickly, huffed and added in a strange voice: – “That's... not fair. This conversation makes me feel uncomfortable.”  
“You are a Lyrian, Viera. I know it and you know it. But your family is respected and known to many, also many Aen Seidhe... You may survive to come back and tell me the tale I need to hear” – he stated strongly, paused and continued in an even stronger voice: – “We need to know what is happening in Cintra.”  
“All right, colonel. I hear you” – she replied in the end but still wasn't too happy.

This is how she ended up in Sodden, looking at the wave of refugees fleeing from the South to the North. Cintra has fallen, Sodden was soon to share its fate, so people forsook their homes and decided to run as far from the Nilfgaardian Army as they could. Mostly because the said army was rumoured to take no prisoners and to spare no one.  
The people, Viera's unit met on their way, were telling them the tale of a seemingly countless stream of soldiers wearing black, with the golden sun on their banners. The invasion Emhyr var Emreis planned for the Northern Kingdoms seemed to be real. But what was his plan? Cintra, Sodden? What then? Temeria, Lyria and Rivia? The North?

_Gods... he truly united all Southern Kingdoms.... if they are really ready to follow him into the war... we do have a problem._

But she wanted to see it for herself. She knew, that to get to Sodden Nilfgaardians would need to go near Armush Mountains. All she needed to do was to get there before they would. So captain Davell gathered her unit and crossed the Yaruga in the direction opposite to the wave of refugees.  
On the Southern riverbank, as they marched on, she was joined by one of her men, Edward:  
“Captain?”  
“Yes?” – she asked.  
“I'm asking hypothetically...” – he started reluctantly, but she urged him:  
“Yes?”  
“If what people are saying is true...” – he hesitated and she said:  
“...it probably is...”  
“Do we stand a chance?”  
“If Northern Kingdoms stand united... yes. Yes, we do.”  
“And if not?”  
“We're not kings and queens, it's beyond us. What we need to do is the reconnaissance and we need to hurry” – she replied and looked at him seriously, but he knew that there was simply no good answer to his question.

Viera was fully aware, that her unit would be trapped in Sodden if they moved too late. She knew that once the Nilfgaardian Army moves East and cuts the way back North for Lyrians... they would be on the run and they would probably need to get to the mountains, but if Reynard's warning was true... in the mountains, they would find the enemy, too. Still, from the Armush Mountains they could see much more, also Cintran lands and they would probably have a chance to meet more people on their way. So... moving South-West as soon as possible was their only chance to fulfil the task they were given.


	5. Coinneach Imbaelk 1263

COINNEACH

Imbaelk 1263  
the Armush Mountains

Coinneach was standing on a mountain slope, looking to the West at the endless line of Nilfgaardian soldiers moving East, in the direction of Sodden. The dream... their dream was slowly coming true in the rhythm of war drums and heavy jackboots marching forth at a steady pace.  
It was dusk when he heard the daerienn's voice coming from behind his back:  
“Commander Coinneach Da Réo? May I speak with you?”  
“Fringilla Vigo. To what do I owe the pleasure?” – he asked, turning around.  
“The Lion Cub of Cintra has fled” – the Nilfgaardian officer, who approached with her, stated with discontent in his voice.  
“Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach... Where are your manners? No greeting? No pleasantries?” – Coinneach asked coldly and added even colder: – “She is your problem, officer. But I must admit, that it eludes me how an eleven-year-old girl managed to escape from the great Nilfgaardian Army?”  
“We don't know.”  
“This is sad, indeed. I'm sure that Deithwen Addan yn Carn aep Morvudd will ask the same question. He may even desire one more grave to dance upon...” – Coinneach smirked, looking at the young Nilfgaardian officer, who took a deep breath and asked with irritation:  
“Do you think, commander, that I'm not aware of it?”  
“I'm sure that you are. After all, we both know, how he loves to dance” – this time Fringilla even chuckled for a split of second at his comment, before Cahir replied coldly:  
“It's not funny.”  
“I'm not joking.”  
“Coinneach... please, we need the help of your men” – Fringilla joined their conversation in quite a different tune.  
“Can't you locate her?” – the Aen Seidhe commander inquired in a bored voice.  
“No, I can't. I've already tried.”

He looked down on the fields underneath them again before he asked slowly:  
“What kind of assistance do you require?”  
“She fled North. Your men can search for her” – she answered hopefully.  
“Oh, yes, they could. For a price.”  
“What price?”  
“A life for a life, my dear daerienn. One day you'll repay me by saving mine and those of my men.”  
“We are allies, commander. I would do it even without...” – she started strongly, but he interrupted her:  
“Now we are, but who knows what the future brings? I require your promise if I am to even consider looking for Cirilla Fiona Ellen Riannon. And as you know... commandos are formed in the North as we speak, I just need to send a word and all Scoia'tael will have their eyes and ears open. This is what I can promise you.”  
“Agreed. I promise in turn to do everything in my power to help you, if the time comes” – she replied with determination, but he sighed and said stoically:  
“That's enough for me. After all... we all only do what we can.”

As Fringilla and Cahir had left, Coinneach looked down once more. In some distance, on the Eastern side of the mountains, he noticed a group of people, who may have been refugees from Cintra, trying to escape to Sodden. He considered it for a while, but... Nilfgaard took no prisoners and allowed no one to escape, maybe but for the person they've come here for...

_Well... Emhyr will be furious..._

Coinneach sighed, turned to his men and ordered:  
“We need to hunt those dh'oine down. Then, we'll head North, Isengrim is waiting for us on the other side of Yaruga.”

Soon, they gathered all of their belongings and ventured down the mountain in the direction of Sodden. On their way down the mountain slope, he could still hear the rhythmical sound of the marching army. It was a sound made by tens of thousands heavy boots of the troops. The Seidhe knew, that this war would be like no other before.  
They marched down in silence, but soon his scouts found tracks and one of them, Aryaena, stated with hesitation, approaching him:  
“Commander...”  
“Anything interesting?” – he asked quietly.  
“You are hunting refugees, aren't you?”  
“Yes.”  
“We've seen them. Mostly women and children...” – she whispered and he replied:  
“I see” – then he took a deep breath and added: – “We have orders.”  
“I... know, commander. I just...”  
“Let's find them. All right?”  
“Yes. But...”  
“I know. We'll see.”  
“I'm not sure why it makes me feel...”  
“What?”  
“I don't know.”  
“Aryaena... it needs to be done.”  
“I know, commander.”

The woman looked at him with hesitation first, but then nodded and joined the rest on their way down. He... well.... he sighed and looked up at the sky. It was a beautiful winter afternoon. It was quite cold and the sky was cloudless. Above them and ahead there was only a grand emptiness.


	6. Viera Imbaelk 1263

VIERA

Imbaelk 1263  
Armush Mountains

Viera's small scouting unit just got to the mountain slope and they found tracks, which probably belonged to the refugees, who they were trying to find. Soon after, they found most of their belongings – already robbed by someone. Probably by the same people, who dragged them somewhere to execute them. She searched the place thoroughly and found, what she was afraid to find: elven arrow. Aen Seidhe were indeed helping Nilfgaardians to march though Northern lands and to kill everyone on their way.

_But if these Cintrans are still alive...We need to find them... or we need to find their corpses. We need to be sure._

Viera decided, that she simply must at least try to do it. Her unit moved deeper into the forest, hidden in the shadows of the mountains' slopes. Soon, they found a hidden cave and heard voices from inside...

_Hen Llinge... So, you are hidden but trapped._

She was too smart to go through the main entrance, but she knew these mountains: they were very similar to those in Lyria and Rivia, what meant, that the cave may have more than one entrance. And she was right. After maybe an hour of searching, they found another entrance – located higher on the mountain slope – and they got inside unnoticed. The voices were getting louder gradually as they marched deeper into the cave until they found themselves just above a small unit of elven scouts.

_Twenty, we are twenty-five... We need to surprise them and we have only one chance to do it._

Lyrians were wearing dark cloaks with hoods and masks, which allowed them to stay hidden. So they crawled to the edge of the cave's floor on their level, she gave the command with her hand to jump and threw a stone to the opposite side of the cave to cause a distraction. The elves got to their feet but looked in the wrong direction. As Lyrians got to them, the elves realised much too late, what has just happened... Viera knew, that she and her men were incredibly lucky to truly caught them by surprise. There was no fight and all elves ended up with swords at their throats.  
The captain had one of them on his knees at her feet, as she stated:  
“Well, well, well... And here I've heard, that it's impossible to catch one of you by surprise. I guess that the stories are wrong, after all.”

The elf was silent. But this gave Viera a chance to look at him from above and... She almost sighed. He was... incredibly handsome.

_What's a pity..._

But she abandoned this foolish thought soon and asked:  
“Are you helping the Nilfgaardian Army to march through Cintra?”

He, obviously, didn't answer but she was ready for his silence. So she asked again:  
“Would you like to watch your comrades die before you answer? Because you will answer sooner or later: all do... but the beginning is the hardest. Do you need encouragement? I can offer you nineteen of them if you'd like...”  
“No” – he replied coldly this time.

_So... you are ready to talk. Hmm..._

“What happened in Cintra?” – she inquired slowly.  
“Cintra has fallen” – he answered stoically.  
“How far are Nilfgaardians?”  
“If you flee quickly, you have a chance to get back to the East.”

_He recognised my accent. Well..._

“Are you from Lyria?” – she inquired coldly and he answered calmly again:  
“I know Lyria.”  
“Are we a target?”  
“So much for solidarity between Northern Kingdoms...” – he replied mockingly and looked up at her masked face. She didn't react to his taunting, but stated coldly:  
“I asked you a question.”

He sighed, looked ahead and answered:  
“Maybe.”  
“Soon?” – she asked quickly, feeling that her heart started to beat faster, but he replied in an almost bored voice:  
“I don't make these decisions.”

Viera pondered for a while. He evaded answering any of her questions in a meaningful way, but... he talked. So she tried again:  
“How many men has the Emperor at his command?”  
“Countless, luned. Countless” – he answered in a mysterious almost hiss.  
“What does he want?”  
“Everything. There is no limit to his desire, but he's a human after all. You all know no limits” – at this answer, his voice turned in contemptuous, so she asked harshly:  
“Do you? The refugees were defenceless! You killed the innocents! It's not what the Lyrian Army does.”

The elf didn't reply for a long time, but looked up at her coldly once more and her eyes met two exquisite, amber orbs – darker closer to pupils and at the edges reminding her of liquid gold. She held her breath, as he spoke:  
“Now, we are defenceless, too.”  
“If you think, that you can taunt me into a fight, then you are a fool. Life without honour ends up in death without dignity, Seidhe” – she hissed in icy-cold voice, but he slowly replied in his calm, almost bored voice:  
“I know honour. The same honour, which makes us all weak. I have limits, which are not known to the Nilfgaardians... This is why they'll win: because you, not unlike myself, hesitate.”

Now, she pondered for a long time, trying to wrap her mind around his line of thinking. In the end, she asked with hope in her voice, which she hated the second she (and probably he, too) recognised it:  
“The refugees?”  
“Women and children are travelling North-East” – he answered without hesitation.  
“To meet the Nilfgaardian Army... you allowed them to go to let someone else finish, what you've started...” – she said with fury, but he interrupted her:  
“… and chosen not to finish. Yes.”

The Lyrian captain froze for a while, again, before she asked one last question:  
“Do we have time to get to them?”  
“Maybe. It's hard to say” – the elf replied looking up in her eyes.

Now, Viera hated how right he was about her... She didn't want to kill him like this. She would kill him in the fight without a second thought, but... not like this. Now... now she had a problem. In the end, she decided and looked up at her men:  
“Tie them up.”  
“Captain... they are monsters... you know, what...” – Ian started.  
“I do, Ian. But I'm not a monster. If he deceived me... he'd live with this knowledge to end of his probably long life. He will know, that he's a man without honour. But if he didn't...” – she paused, looked for a split of second at the Seidhe at her feet and ordered to her men: – “Now, do as I said.”

All Aen Seidhe were tied up and gagged shortly after she repeated the order. As the Lyrians were leaving, Viera looked one last time in the exquisite eyes of the man, before she disappeared.  
On their way North-East, she was considering all the worst scenarios...

_He sent us into a trap..._  
_The refugees are already dead somewhere else..._  
_We'll die in vain..._  
_I was fooled..._

But... she was wrong. They've found the refugees a few hours later. Men were gone, executed, as they've heard soon, but... women and children were safe, sound and untouched. As they assisted them on the way to the East, she looked back again.

_Thank you... Now, tell your story to Nilfgaardians. Tell them, that Cintrans were not left alone and the North remembers. Tell them, that it's not over yet and we'll stand together one day to crush you all down. Even if it is to be the last thing we'll do._


	7. Reynard Blathe 1267

REYNARD

Blathe 1267  
Caedva Gaenvid  
Lower Aedirn

Four years have passed since the Sack of Cintra. Now, Lyria was ruled by traitors and the rightful queen, Meve, needed to flee and to find help to take back her seat from Nilfgaardian occupants. For this reason, they were travelling through deep woods for a long time, heading from occupied now Lyria to Aldersberg in Aedirn, where they hoped to find king Demawend and to receive his assistance.  
From the moment they entered the old Moulderwood forest they've known, that they are being watched and a Scoia'tael commando is waiting for them somewhere, preparing for battle. But they pushed forward knowing very well, that if Aedirn was lost... Lyria and Rivia would probably lose the last chance to fight against Nilfgaardians.  
In the morning, a scout approached him and Meve, and reported, that the group of Scoia'tael is guarding something in a cave deeper in the wood. They looked at each other and decided to follow his lead. Black Rayla – an officer of Aedirnian special forces, whom they've saved from Scoia'tael not long ago – was riding at Meve's right side, while he was riding at her left. This was how they arrived at the spot pointed out by the scout only to find a Lyrian unit by the entrance of the cave with captain Davell at their head, who stated:  
“My Queen, there is nothing worth your while in this cave. You should ride forth.”  
“So what were those elves guarding?” – Rayla asked Viera with contempt in her voice, looking at a few bodies lying close to where they were standing.

The two women developed a strong contempt towards one another from the moment they've met. Black Rayla may have been Aedirnian and an ally, but neither he nor most of his men, especially Viera, shared her views on the coexistence of races, the fight against Scoia'tael and Aen Seidhe in general. No, they knew, that Black Rayla was a blood-thirsty, racist monster. And now, both women were scrutinising each other coldly, before Viera replied:  
“It's none of your business, monster.”  
“You're a traitor, aren't you, half-breed?” – Rayla growled with disgust.  
“That's enough” – Meve stopped their argument. – “Rayla, Viera is one of my best and most trusted captains. You won't speak to her in this manner. If she says, that we should go, I agree with her. We ride forth.”

Queen Meve looked at Reynard with worry and he nodded, staying behind, but the rest of the Queen's travelling company left the entrance to the cave. As they were long gone, Viera asked him:  
“Why did you stay?”  
“Because Rayla will try to come back to kill you and whoever is in this cave” – he replied, looking at the spot, where Meve and Rayla disappeared.

Viera was breathing heavily but stated in a quiet voice:  
“It's a hospital. There's no honour in killing injured and helpless.”  
“I agree. Are they watching us?” – he asked with a bit of worry, but she only smirked and replied, looking at the trees surrounding them:  
“They are aiming their arrows at us as we speak but I believe, that they won't shoot.”  
“Why?”  
“Because I paid for the safe passage: Matthias is still inside, trying to help. As we come back to the rest, we'll need more medicine because we are leaving all of our supplies here, but Rayla cannot know. She would realise, what this place really is and she would try to come back sooner or later” – she stated, looking at the cave and sighed, when he replied:  
“All right.”

As he agreed, Matthias emerged from the cave with a female Seidhe at his side. She had golden hair, beautiful face and impressive figure, but Reynard noticed soon, that she was limping slightly. Matthias joined Viera, as the Seidhe spoke coldly to the Lyrian captain:  
“My name is Saraid. And you are a strange dh'oine or maybe not... Half-breed? An inh'eid? Or, as s I should say, a traitor to both of your races.”  
“I'm not particularly interested in your opinion, Saraid” – Viera replied in kind.  
“I should say it, but I won't. I'm allowing you to go and we are even.”  
“Indeed, we are”.  
“Next time I'll see you, I may kill you, luned” – the Seidhe continued without any emotion in her voice.  
“Next time, I might not give you the chance to see me, Seidhe” – Viera replied coldly again, but then looked pensively at the elven bodies scattered around the entrance, glimpsed back at the she-elf and stated: – “Forgive us... Men who attacked them... They weren't my men and they didn't know. Still, it was wrong. Now... I give you my word, that no one from our company will come back here.”  
“Then you should go, so you can keep it. Black Rayla...” – the she-elf started, but was quickly interrupted by Lyrian captain:  
“Is a scum. There's at least one thing we agree on.”  
“Va fail, luned” – the she-elf smiled almost unnoticeably and Viera did the same:  
“Va fail, Saraid.”

They headed back to the rest of the Lyrian army slowly, almost lazily, deep in their thoughts. For the next day and night, their men kept watch on Rayla... but she didn't dare to cross Meve or Viera... or both of them.

The next day was almost uneventful, but the two women, Viera and Rayla, were watching each other like two predators ready to attack their prey. The slightest argument could end up in a fight, but both knew as well, that when all is said and done... they were on the same side in the war against Nilfgaard. So, they seemingly decided to avoid each other at any cost.  
After a day of the ride, Viera came to him and stated in a whisper:  
“We are entering Caedva Gaenvid... they will fight us here.”  
“How can you know it?” – Reynard inquired with surprise in his voice.

The young woman just raised her eyebrows and he answered his own question:  
“Because you know... Sometimes I'm forgetting, my dear friend, who you are and how much you've learned...” – he smiled and added: – “Meve needs to be informed.”  
“She is as we speak” – Viera replied matter-of-factly.  
“What?” – he asked this time with disbelieve.

Then, he realised, that indeed Black Rayla was just whispering something to the Queen. He sighed and said:  
“Captain, you are impressive.”  
“I know, general” – she replied and smirked.  
“You believe, that we should fight them?”  
“I don't believe, that they'll leave us the choice. They will attack and we'll need to defend ourselves. I don't like it, you don't like it, even Meve don't like it, but we will. The only person happy about it is Rayla because she's a depraved monster and scum. We shouldn't have rescued her... Her mare presence among us is against everything we believe in. But it's too late... what's done is done.”  
“Scoia'tael... Viera... sometimes we need to fight them...” – he started quietly, but she interrupted him in a strong voice:  
“But we shouldn't find pleasure in killing people.”  
“They leave us no choice.”  
“Indeed. Here he comes” – she ended, looking at the elven graveyard.

The man, who emerged from the ruins, was an elf for sure. He had quite long, almost black hair and battle colours on his face. He introduced himself as Eldain, the commander of Scoia'tael commando hidden in Moulderwood. He was nor a gentleman neither a man of honour... Reynard learned this lesson too late – at the moment when his men were slain, even though Meve agreed to the commander's conditions, which he offered in exchange for releasing them. Then, they started to fight.  
The fight wasn't long, both sides lost men, but in the end, the Scoia'tael commando was destroyed and Eldain was sitting at Meve's feet, mortally wounded. As they were conversing about burying him in the graveyard... Reynard realised, that Viera, her men and most of Lyrian soldiers didn't rest after the battle, but were already digging graves for those they've lost. But he knew that she wouldn't leave their foes to rot in the open, either. Meve knew it, too. Only Rayla still believed that it may be any other way...  
As Eldain was close to his end, Viera approached him slowly and looked him in the eyes with sorrow. He looked at her, too and whispered something to her with his dying breath. She bowed her head for a while before she closed his eyes and called her men to carry him to one of the empty graves. As they were leaving the graveyard... Viera was silent.


	8. Toruviel Blathe 1267

TORUVIEL

Blathe 1267  
Tuzla Castle  
Angren

The Nilfgaardian invasion on Lyria and Rivia was a masterpiece. Rivian allies prepared the way for the Nilfgaardian army, so truly there was not even much of a fight. Their army simply marched through the roads and fields of Rivia and then Lyria two weeks later, not even a month ago. People weren't happy about their presence, but as they've learned that it would be Meve's son, Vilem, who would rule over them with Emhyr var Emreis' blessing... they accepted it. Sort of... at least most of them. Either way, the occupation of Lyria and Rivia started with close to none bloodshed.  
That day, Toruviel was standing in the great hall of Tulza Castle with Coinneach and Isengrim at her sides. With them in the castle's hall were Caldwell, the rest of Rivian allies and general aep Dahy himself with new orders from the City of Golden Towers. The Nilfgaardian general looked at them all stoically and stated:  
“When we take Aedirn, we are charged with introducing the new policy towards our new lands. The White Flame sent new orders for us all: we need slaves more than we need corpses. The Vrihedd Brigade is charged with delivering men here, so that they may be escorted South, to Nilfgaard.”  
“As slaves?” – Coinneach asked in an empty voice.  
“Yes, commander. As slaves. Someone needs to work in Nilfgaard, as our men are fighting in the war, don't you agree?”

Coinneach looked first at Isengrim and then at her with wide eyes and bewildered expression. He even stopped breathing for a while.

_Freedom or death. This is the code we live by. But the code is for us, Aen Seidhe... it doesn't mean, that we should..._

Toruviel sighed and stated carefully:  
“A good dh'oine is a dead dh'oine, you said it yourself, Neach. If they can be used a bit before they die...”  
“Do you hear yourself, Toru?” – he asked coldly, looking her straight in the eyes.  
“Is there really a difference?”  
“Isengrim?” – Coinneach asked the third Scoia'tael commander, now colonel of the Vrihedd Brigade, who didn't look happy with the new order, as well.  
“I thought that you will like the new task, Coinneach!” – aep Dahy stated with a grin. – “You wanted to humiliate dh'oine, to have your revenge... This is it!”  
“No” – Coinneach replied stoically.  
“What?”  
“No. We won't do it. We'll clear the way for your army, but we won't take slaves for you. Do it yourself.”  
“But the Emperor... the White Flame ordered it!”  
“I'll write to him myself” – Neach replied coldly, again and left the hall.

Nilfgaardian general looked at Isengrim and Toruviel bewildered before he asked:  
“Is he serious? I really believed that you'd be pleased.”  
“It's not our way, general...” – Isengrim explained slowly.  
“Oh... so killing is what? Better or worse than this? What is wrong with slavery?”

This time... this time even Isengrim couldn't find the right words to reply, but he raised slightly his eyebrows with irritation. Toruviel noticed, that he also clenched his jaw and fisted his palms. The hall, although it was spacious, suddenly became incredibly stuffy.

Coinneach disappeared in one of the chambers of the castle, but Toruviel and Isengrim left the place and went to the forest. The forest in Angren was strange... dead and suffocating. It was old, very old but also... sick: tainted by dark, primal power, which changed it. As they walked deeper into the forest, she heard Isengrim's voice:  
“He is right, you know.”  
“Is he?” – she asked with frustration.  
“Yes. It's not, who we are.”  
“If there were borderlines, Is... we've crossed them already. Probably a long time ago.”  
“Still... it's not what we are fighting for. We want what is ours... We don't need to turn men in slaves for that.”  
“But if the White Flame wants...” – she started, but he interrupted her calmly:  
“His name is Emhyr var Emreis... or His Imperial Majesty... Don't sound like Fringilla... she's a fanatic.”  
“Do you believe, that I'm a fanatic?” – she asked sharply, but he replied in his usual, stoic voice:  
“No. I believe that you have a purpose far beyond fighting for the Nilfgaardian Emperor... but maybe once she had another purpose, as well?”  
“It's not funny, Is.”  
“I know. It wasn't supposed to be.”

She looked at him pensively and sped up, leaving him behind. As she walked in the direction of Caed Dhu, she more felt than saw, that the forest has changed since her last visit here. There was something dark and predatory, savage and cold in the air. Even the trees were singing differently.


	9. Meve Feainn 1267

MEVE

Feainn 1267  
road to Mount Carbon  
Mahakam

With the ring from Demawend and hope for help from Mahakamian dwarfs, Meve decided to venture up the Mahakam mountains as far as to Mount Carbon. She knew that her plan was probably hopeless, but... right now she was helpless. This was her only option to even stand a chance to fight for her kingdom. For a long while, she was riding alongside Gascon, her young and rather unexpected ally. They've conversed about some trivia, but Viera's warning was still too fresh in her mind to feel at ease around him.  
As Meve looked over her shoulder at her young captain, she realised that the woman wasn't at ease, either. So, she stopped her horse and joined Viera at the rear, asking in a quiet voice:  
“Viera? Are you all right?”  
“I... yes, my Queen” – the young woman answered a bit absent-mindedly.  
“You've been strangely quiet since Caedva Gaenvid.”  
“It's nothing” – she paused, looked Meve in the eyes and explained: – “I didn't want to fight more with that wretched woman before she thankfully left us. It wasn't good for our men's morale. Forgive me.”  
“It was exactly, what we needed: we are Lyrians, it's not our way... You stood for honour, dignity and what was right, even if it was only the lesser evil.”  
“Sometimes... sometimes I wish I didn't need to make those choices. That I could go far away to a place, where one does not need to make them.”

They rode in silence for a while, but Meve asked again:  
“You don't need to answer, Viera. It's just my curiosity... What did he tell you, before he died?”  
“Who?” – the captain asked absent-mindedly.  
“Commander Eldain...”  
“Ah... I...” – Viera swallowed, was silent for a while, but continued quietly: – “I'm not sure, what he meant by it, but... he said: duettaeánn aef cirrán Cáerme Gláeddyv. Yn á esseáth.”  
“The Sword of Destiny has two edges. You are one of them... That's intriguing...” – Meve translated at loud and trailed off.  
“Not really, my Queen. It's... well... The phrase comes from dryads in Brokilon. They say... that this phrase is engraved on the cup, from which they allow you to drink the waters of Brokilon. The waters which change you forever or don't change you at all...”  
“You really do specialise in knowledge” – Meve joked, but her heart was beating strangely, leaving her almost breathless. The woman at her side remained silent for a long time. But in the end, Viera started:  
“When he said it... I... it's foolish...” – but trailed off. Meve encouraged her, however, she felt as if by mare speaking of it, she was bringing some strange doom on all of them:  
“What?”

_What is wrong with me? What is this stupid, silly feeling? It's just a phrase... just some words of some dying man... What is wrong with me?_

She heard the young woman's voice like in the fog:  
“When Eldain said it, I remembered a face. The face I've seen before... Man's face.”  
“Do you know his name?” – the Queen asked hesitatingly.  
“No and I do not wish to know it” – Viera paused and added: – “It's just a phrase.”  
“Yes... Don't worry, Viera. We'll be fine.”  
“If we get the help we need from Mahakam... if not...” – she didn't finish, but took a deep breath, as Meve replied warmly:  
“We'll find another way.”

They fell silent for a long time, riding side-by-side up the mountain slope. The snow was falling incessantly and the higher they've got the colder it was. Meve knew that her men weren't prepared for this climb, but again... they had no choice. After a time, Viera asked:  
“Did he speak to you about...?” – and she looked at Gascon, as Meve answered:  
“No.”  
“Do you believe, that he will?”  
“I... I do hope so.”  
“He may be a very useful asset, I agree.”  
“He may. But also... I've got used to him, you know? He's refreshing.”  
“And here I was thinking, that he mostly irritates you.”  
“He does, but... it's refreshing. He's becoming a friend.”  
“We still know nothing about him, you do remember that, don't you? We know nothing about his past, his family... He remains a mystery.”  
“You don't trust him” – Meve stated matter-of-factly and Viera replied slowly:  
“He's a loose cannon. Of course, I don't trust him. It wouldn't be wise...” – the captain started, but it was the Queen, who finished:  
“… and you are a wise woman. I know, Viera. But I also know, that many would say, that I shouldn't trust you.”  
“Like Rayla?”  
“Indeed.”  
“I've been loyal to you for years. I do believe, that there is a difference. Gascon... came out of nowhere under false pretences... He probably came to you for a reason, which is as far from loyal as it gets” – Viera stated coldly and Meve agreed somewhat reluctantly:  
“I remember.”

They would probably speak some more if Viera didn't point out something in front of them. And indeed, maybe ten minutes up the mountain slope a lonely dwarf was sitting and watching as they approached him. Both women looked at each other and sighed.

_Let it begin..._


	10. Coinneach Feainn 1267

COINNEACH

Feainn 1267  
village near Aldersberg  
Aedrin

Every Aedrinian village started to look just the same for him. For a month Scoia'tael were roaming through Aedirn, setting fire on their way. The funny thing was that, at least his men, warned the inhabitants about the incoming doom, allowing them to flee North. Usually. Only in villages, where they were informed by local Seidhe, that true monsters lived, they just opened the gates of hell and watched as fire burned everything to the ground.  
But the Nilfgaardians... well.. they liked to play with their prey. They enjoined it. To one of the villages, which Coinneach actually wanted to warn, he came too late. Much too late. As he walked to the centre of the village, he saw four soldiers, a woman spread on the ground and a man tied to the tree... made to watch the scene in front of him or at least to hear her screams. Coinneach was able to look at the scene only for maybe three seconds. Then, he reached for his bow. First, he shot the woman. Later, he shot the man. It was the most merciful thing anyone could do for both of them.  
But young Nilfgaardian soldier, zipping his trousers on his way to Coinneach, was not happy and asked with indignation:  
“Do you know who I am?”  
“Nilfgaardian officer?” – Coinneach asked dismissively.  
“That's right! My name is...” – the young man started, but the Seidhe commander interrupted him coldly:  
“I don't care, boy. Just get out of my sight.”  
“How dare you?! I...” – he continued furiously, but once more was silenced by Coinneach's cold, dangerous voice:  
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I said: get out!”

The young Nilfgaardian prick looked at him with anger in his eyes but learned the lesson and left with his men. Coinneach walked slowly further until he came to the line of the trees beyond the village. There, just in front of him, he noticed something, what froze his blood for a moment: three dh'oine children, hiding behind the tree. They all had some burns and were shaking violently, looking straight at him... Two girls and a boy, who tried to cover his companions with his own body. The four of them were just looking at each other for a long time before he spoke:  
“Wait here.”

Then, he called his horse, Manwe, which galloped to him swiftly. Coinneach removed the food he had with him, woollen cloak, blanket and two Lyrian swords he had hanging by the saddle. Later, he left everything on the ground and turned around to walk back to the village. It was as he was walking away when one of the girls spoke in a shaking, but challenging voice:  
“We could kill you now.”  
“Not really... but you won't, either way” – he turned around again. – “Go deeper into the forest, kids. All dh'oine are afraid of forests: Nilfgaardians too.”  
“But there are monsters in the wood... “– she replied in a quieter voice.  
“No more than here. Now, go.”  
“You are a strange elf” – the other girl said pensively, but he replied with a small smile on his lips:  
“No, I'm not, luned. I'm just a Seidhe. Remember that, because one day you may have a chance to repay this debt. Now, go.”

As Coinneach came back to the village, Saraid was waiting for him with a blank expression. They walked together to one of the burned houses looking for anything useful to take with them and inside the building she started:  
“You...” – but he quickly interrupted her:  
“… what? Am I too soft for you? Or too weak? I'm getting tired of these conversations... I had too many of them with Toruviel, so please: spare me this one.”  
“No, Coinneach. I wanted to say, that you were right” – she replied and raised one eyebrow disapprovingly.  
“Oh... then forgive my outburst...” – he apologised, paused and added: – “This war... it's not what it was supposed to be.”  
“I know. And they are not, what they're supposed to be, either. It was supposed to be easy.”  
“Sometimes it is. But sometimes...”

Coinneach's reply was interrupted by a sound coming from the house nearby, so they left the building and entered the other one. There... there was a young woman... She was half-burned, awaiting a very long and very painful death, but she was awake. As he pulled out his dagger and approached her, she only whispered with difficulty:  
“Destiny... it's twisted... so twisted... I always believed that we were destined to die together... But not now, not two weeks after the wedding... not...”

She could speak no more, so he slit her throat with one swift movement. Her dead body was lying close to the bed, which was almost completely burned... but it wasn't empty. A man, probably her man, died there about an hour ago crushed by a fallen, half-burned rafter...

The stink of burned flesh was unbearable, so they walked out from the house and he glimpsed at the garden behind it. Everything was burned... there was nothing left. As he stood there, he felt Saraid's hand catching his, when she spoke:  
“Come to the forest... we have some time. We need to forget.”

Coinneach closed his eyes, still smelling the fire and burn... Still almost dizzy from the stink... But he started to walk with her, away from that cursed place. Just the moment as they passed the house, he smelled something completely different. Something what took his breath away.  
Everything in the garden behind the small cottage house was burned but for one bush – jasmine, which seemingly was untouched by the fire. Its scent... its scent was intoxicating. He stood frozen at the spot, as he heard Seraid's voice again:  
“Neach? Are you all right?”  
“Yes. I'm sorry. It's... never mind” – he replied absent-mindedly and started to walk away but halted again, smelling the fragrance even stronger.  
“What is it?” – she asked impatiently and he took a deep breath before he replied:  
“Jasmine...”  
“What with it?”  
“Someone... someone I've met some years ago smelled of jasmine.”  
“Oh... What is she like?” – Saraid smiled knowingly, but he looked her in the eyes, replying in a pensive voice:  
“I... don't really know. Brave, honourable and naïve... like we all.”  
“I... Neach? You talk in riddles.”  
“Forgive me, my dear... I haven't really met her. She... could have killed me with ease some time ago, but she didn't.”  
“Oh... and what you remember of her is... the fragrance? That's...” – she trailed off and he added:  
“Yes... jasmine. And Lyrian accent, however, I'm not sure I would recognise her voice. But the fragrance... Inexplicably it brings her to my mind every time I encounter it.”  
“A soldier?”  
“Yes, the commanding officer of a scout unit...”  
“Hmm...” – she looked at him pensively, so he asked:  
“What?”  
“Young?”  
“Very.”  
“Maybe it was her, who saved me and the rest in the hospital a month ago? She smelled mostly of road and her horse, but... there were traces of jasmine, I guess... Black Rayla called her a half-breed...” – Saraid replied slowly.  
“An inh'eid?” – he asked with curiosity but soon he stated: – “Let's leave it. Come, my dear. You wanted something.”  
“Hmm... I still do.”

_Who are you, luned?_

He pondered, as they walked but soon abandoned the memory altogether.


	11. Coinneach Feainn 1268

COINNEACH

Feainn 1268  
Tigg  
Cintra

_Sons of bitches..._

Angus' words were still in Coinneach's head, as heavy, iron shackles closed around his wrists. Aen Seidhe officers were all crowded in a narrow cul de sac, caught by their own allies and now imprisoned without hope for escape. There was no way out and only one end – they all knew it very well, probably too well.

_Idiots, naïve cretins, old-fashioned fools... We trusted their word, we wanted to keep our promise and oath... to dh'oine! How foolish of us! We've learned nothing._

But now it was too late for these idle thoughts. They came back to Nilfgaardians, they appeared in Tigg as ordered and what has happened later was only the consequence of many previous choices... Danza suggested, that they were sold out following the conditions of the Peace Treaty of Cintra, so...

_Filavandrel? Enid? Did you agree? Did you sell us out, too? What with Dol Blathanna? Or was it a price... Some thirty lives for countless more. For countless, who now can have a better life... If I was to make this decision myself... I would do the same._

After this realisation, Coinneach stopped fighting and sighed. After all, the time for fighting was long gone. He allowed the Nilfgaardians to lead him out of the city and to a prison carriage. On his way, he only looked for a split of second at the mountain tops of Amell Range, located far to the South from Tigg. From here they were no more than small, distant shadows of great, white peaks.

_Like our dreams of freedom and better lives... No more than distant memory of what could have been, but was never meant to happen._

In the prison carriage, he looked at Isengrim and Angus, seeing only dead, haunted faces and empty eyes. They spoke nothing. After all, what could they say to each other? That it'd be all right? That they were ready to die?

_Maybe with swords in our hands on a battlefield. Or in the forest, on the carpet of moss and leaves, with green tree tops above our heads. But not like this. Not..._

His thoughts were interrupted as the carriage stopped. For a long time, nothing had happened, but then through a small window Coinneach saw the face of a man. The man who looked now much older, than as he remembered him from their last meeting but truly... he would always remember him even younger.  
Today Emhyr's face was sad, frozen in a strange, almost unnoticeable sorrow. Still, this face didn't change a thing. Whatever his remorse may or may not have been then... he made this decision a while ago and there was no going back from it. This was the reckoning.  
The carriage moved soon after and they continued their journey North. As to the Aen Seidhe... it took them some hour to find their voices. In the end, it was Angus who stated:  
“We should have known, fraeres. We should have foreseen, that we would be betrayed.”  
“It would change nothing. They would find us and kill us anyway, sooner or later” – Coinneach replied stoically.  
“But this! Neach! They... sold us. Like cattle” – Angus exclaimed with anger.  
“It's politics, my dear boy. Sometimes you win wars, sometimes you lose. We, Aen Seidhe, know a lot about losing and we're not the first to lose everything.”  
“Aelirenn... But she died on the battlefield: with honour and dignity. The fate which awaits us in the North... It won't be that pretty. It won't be the matter for legends, fraere...”  
“No, it won't. But... does it really matter? We fought, we tried and we will give up our lives in hope, that others will have a better fate. Is this the worst way to go where the apple-trees bloom? After all, we'll meet again. All of us” – Coinneach replied calmly and smiled a very sad smile.  
“You accepted it, didn't you?” – Isengrim asked in a whisper.  
“Is there a point in fighting? Is... there are those, who will benefit after we're gone...”  
“Nordlings” – the Iron Wolf replied in a stronger voice. – “Those scum of dh'oine. And his Imperial Majesty... Fucking hell... we were blind. It was coming for a long time.”  
“Aen Seidhe from Dol Blathanna” – the oldest commander corrected him. – “The same for whom we were fighting for all those years. They have a chance to live their lives on their lands... Hopefully in peace.”  
“I'm not a martyr.”  
“Neither am I. I wouldn't choose this fate but as it's already here... I'm tired of fighting it, Isengrim. Destiny... it always has it's way to find you... we were trying to outrun it for far too long: it's time to stop running.”

Coinneach closed his eyes, then opened them and looked again through the small window. He still remembered one chance meeting... which almost changed it all.  
But, deep in his heart, he also knew that they were all simply... opportunists. Aen Seidhe fought beside Nilfgaard because for them it was the only way to stand a chance against Nordlings. To truly make a difference... The Emperor of Nilfgaard invited them to fight for him because he needed men and he needed Aen Seidhe knowledge about the Northern Kingdoms. He needed scouts and secret paths used by Aen Seidhe... to conquer the whole North, what was his plan probably from the very beginning.  
Emhyr var Emreis promised them Dol Blathanna and he delivered, although he lost the war. He promised them lives and deaths, and he delivered them, as well. They, on their part, were paying for all of this with blood, death and loss, but they've expected nothing less. So why were they surprised at this one last sacrifice? One last betrayal...  
Coinneach knew that the journey by land would take them some hours and then they would need to cross the river Yaruga. Then... then he only had one wish.

_May it be quick._

He wasn't sure when he has become too tired to even be angry. It was probably somewhere along the long way, during the war, as the loss started to surpass the gain. This was just the last brick of their desperation but it was hardly the first one. He would like to say, that he should have chosen a different path but... there was none. The war was their past, present and future.


	12. Meve Feainn 1268

MEVE

Feainn 1268  
Brugge  
Temeria

Unlike most in the castle in Brugge, Meve couldn't sleep that night. The war was over, the peace treaty was signed and now they were waiting for the conditions of the Peace Treaty of Cintra to be fulfilled. Funny thing... some would say, that the White Queen achieved it all: it was her who fought for her kingdom and people to the end, and never stopped fighting. It was her who gathered the army and won the first battle against Nilfgaard: the battle for some not really important bridge on the river Yaruga... But it was the first victorious battle for Nordlings. The small battle, which has changed the fate of the great war. The battle at the bridge of Yaruga which quickly became the symbol of hope.  
In the end, it was also her who alone took back her own kingdom and seat in Rivia, and still managed to rush to the second battle of Aldersberg to help Demawend. Yes, she achieved it all and now she was waiting for the prisoners to arrive in the North. Thirty-two offices of the Vrihedd Brigade were probably just escorted her way... and she couldn't sleep. Soon, in her hands would be the fate of more than just those officers – she would hold the keys to the beginning of the future. The future which they needed to build for all of them.  
She knew very well, that many Aen Seidhe lived in her realm... And she understood now, that she had made many mistakes in the past in their regard. She also realised that her own son, whom she disregarded for far too long, was right... It was Vilem, who had seen, what she couldn't: the lives of Aen Seidhe in her realm were not lives worth living... Maybe if they all had done more... maybe if they had pondered for a second about the fate of those people, their people, even though they were so different. Even if most of them didn't want to be part of her people... Still, maybe then Aen Seidhe wouldn't grant their aid to the Nilfgaardian Army. Maybe... Maybe even Cintra wouldn't be lost. Maybe... They would never know, but...

_It's our fault, too... So is it an honourable thing to do?_

This thought brought immediately Viera – her favourite young, Lyrian major – to her mind. Years of war have changed this young woman, too...

_Your people want to see them dead. Someone needs to hang for the year of occupation... Some lords already paid with their lives for treason but... it's not enough and they... They are just an easy target. Different – with those pointy ears of theirs... More beautiful, colder, prouder... They are the ones, who dared to reach for the impossible and to some extent, they've succeeded... Dol Blathanna is theirs again, a duchy... But your people demand elven blood, my Queen and it's hard to blame them for it. They can't make Nilfgaardians pay. And they still remember Scoia'tael roaming in Lyrian and Rivian woods..._

A few years ago, Viera wouldn't say something like that. A few years ago, even a few months ago... she wouldn't. There was something dark, contemptuous and sarcastic in her voice as she spoke it, but... still: she said all of these things. Things which once she would find wrong, dishonourable... There still was a difference between killing men on the battlefield and a cold-blooded execution, the Queen of Lyria and Rivia was fully aware of that.  
Meve got up from her bed, leaving Reynard alone and approached the window. She looked ahead at the dark green forest behind the city walls and sighed.

_Eldain... it's your fault. I should have never ask Viera to look into your past. I shouldn't have, because now... I regret. Now you are much more a person, than an enemy to me._

For a long time, she just looked through the window and tried to calm her mind. But after a time, she turned around, hearing Reynard's voice:  
“Meve, my dear. What's the matter?”  
“Go to sleep” – she replied in a whisper.  
“But you can't sleep, can you? You left me more than half an hour ago...”  
“I didn't want to wake you up. Sorry...”  
“Your absence wakes me up” – he replied quietly and looked intently at her.  
“I...” – she smiled warmly and continued: – “You are the sweetest man, Reynard. I don't say it frequently enough.”

He got up and stood in front of her, encircling her waist with his strong arms. She looked at him for a long time, before she asked:  
“Do you remember, what I said to Eldain just before he died?”  
“The circle ends now?” – he asked softly, but she raised her eyebrows in surprise and replied:  
“I... you do remember. Yes.”  
“Is it what you want to do? Forgive them? Prevent the executions?” – he asked slowly, hesitation visible in his features.  
“Yes. It's what I want to do.”  
“Meve... it's very... gracious of you, but... why? They fought against you, your people, your allies...” – he said quietly, but she replied in an irritated voice:  
“Fuck my allies. Where were they, when my kingdom was taken and occupied? What kind of allies they truly are?”  
“Even if I agree... Your people...”  
“They are the reason, why I want to do it.”  
“I don't follow.”  
“I've recently spoken to Viera... she believes, that they should die. She believes that this is what my people want, but... it's not who she is. It's not who we are” – Meve paused, looking at him intently and finished: – “We are more, Reynard.”  
“But how do you wish to persuade Foltest? Henselt?”  
“I... don't know yet” – she answered quickly but pondered for a while and added: – “I need to meet with Francesca Findabair.”  
“She agreed....”  
“Let's hope, that she agreed very reluctantly. I would do anything I could to save you, to bring Gascon back... Maybe she is of the same mind” – Meve moved away from Reynard and looked through the window again, as he agreed:  
“All right. We have time but we need to do it in absolute secrecy.”  
“Yes. No one can know, that we are meeting with her...”

Reynard was silent for a long time but then he asked slowly:  
“Meve, my dear... why do I have the feeling, that you do have an ulterior motive in this?”  
“Because you know me too well, my darling” – she turned around and replied with a mysterious smile.

Then, she breathed easier, took his hand and led him back to bed. As she was falling asleep again in his embrace, she thought that she has got more now, than she had had before the war started.


	13. Viera Lammas 1268

VIERA

Lammas 1268  
Dillingen  
Temeria

For a long time, Viera was standing alone in one of the warehouses in Temerian port town called Dillingen. Without a doubt, it was a shit-hole... a vile, disgusting place. Meve and Foltest were in the camp nearby, still debating on the executions. If Viera believed, that the peace treaty would end the arguments, debates and fighting, she would be very wrong. But she has never been so naïve and she knew well, that every Northern ruler desired a piece of this cake: a spoil of war and revenge.  
For officers of the Vrihedd Brigade, Nordlings wanted to prepare a welcoming, that no one would ever forget... But Meve was against it. The White Queen wanted to execute them all here, in Dillingen, by beheading or to shot them dead from crossbows... Either way – she wanted it to be a quick and dignified death. As for Viera... she did her best not to think about it if she could prevent it. But today, as she was waiting for the prisoners at their place of destination... she simply couldn't stop herself.  
The Nilfgaardian ship has already been spotted on Yaruga a while ago and Temerian soldiers were waiting in the port for the delivery. Lyrians, including her unit, were standing just outside the warehouse.

_A Death Squad. This is what the war made of us. How suitable... So it is to be my order, what they'll hear in the very end._  
_Traitor's order..._

Oh, yes... This thought was coming to her mind regularly since the strange meeting with Saraid in Moulderwood. Was it treason against her race to believe, that the less they kill the better? Was it treason against her other race to believe, that a death sentence is a fair sentence after all, what Aen Seidhe soldiers did since they've joined the Nilfgaardian army? Was it treason or treasons? Was it?  
Viera understood the uprisings and the fight as Scoia'tael. She understood and would never say, that they deserved to die for it. She was fully aware of their reasons and motives, and she felt for them. What she was unwilling to understand or to forgive was the real treason: supporting the Nilfgaardian Emperor, the Monster from the South. That... that was something she wasn't willing to understand or to forgive.  
As she was pondering, she heard a strange sound of the opening of a magical portal and the Lyrian major quickly turned around. Behind her stood a woman with dark hair and dark complexion. She wore quite simple but elegant robes and no jewellery, however, she still managed to look graceful and commanding. Viera recognised her at once:  
“Fringilla Vigo... Sorceress, you have quite a nerve to come here on this day... To tell the truth: you have quite a nerve to come here at all... You're not welcome in the Northern Kingdoms.”  
“I'm fully aware, major Davell” – the woman replied calmly, almost warmly.  
“You know my name? Shall I be flattered?” – the Lyrian asked sarcastically.  
“The famous Manticore... I've seen you from a tower of the walls in Aldersberg... I even tried to kill you, but you were lucky: you jumped over my fire” – the sorceress stated, looking at her intently as she replied coldly:  
“Ah... my horse is not afraid of fire, my dear sorceress... She's called Varda: light is her domain...”  
“A truly fitting name.”

They were both silent for a while, but soon Viera asked with irritation in her voice:  
“Why are you here, Fringilla?”  
“You are an inh'eid, aren't you?” – the sorceress asked pensively, disregarding her question.  
“So you came here to insult me... This is a great idea” – the Lyrian major stated with sarcasm in her voice.  
“I came here to give you this” – Fringilla replied and gave her a letter. It was opened but folded. Viera raised her eyebrows and asked coldly:  
“What is it?”  
“Read, it was already opened. Then, you'll tell me.”

Viera unfolded the papers and started to read. She kept her face frozen, but many emotions came to her mind before she finished. Especially, as she looked at the signature.

_Coinneach Da Réo... one of the officers sentenced to die today... But if he really..._

She looked at the sorceress coldly and asked:  
“Is it real?”  
“Yes” – the woman replied.  
“So... if I am to believe you... one of the Aen Seidhe officers wrote to Emhyr var Emreis only to refuse to carry out an order. They are suicidal, aren't they?” – she finished with a cold irony in her voice.  
“But he survived... and indeed never sentenced anyone to slavery.”  
“Freedom or death...”  
“Yes.”  
“At least he's not a hypocrite. At least he applied this rule to everyone.”  
“Not only him. Aen Seidhe were not responsible for the slavery of the Nordlings...” – Fringilla started but Viera interrupted her:  
“… only for countless deaths.”  
“We are all murderers, major. We were at war. How many did you kill?” – the older woman asked, looking at her coldly.

Viera looked at the papers in her hands again and back at the sorceress, asking:  
“Why do you care?”  
“I don't abandon my people” – Fringilla replied at once.  
“No... You are a sorceress: a cold, calculating pragmatist... It's not it” – the Lyrian major stated doubtfully and asked again: – “Why?”  
“I promised.”  
“Him?”  
“Yes. I promised to do everything in my power to keep them alive.”  
“What is your Emperor's position on the matter?”  
“He doesn't know, that I'm here.”  
“Betrayal? Fascinating... Doesn't he care for his people?”  
“He needs peace.”  
“To prepare another war against us... But he believes that he doesn't need them, the Aen Seidhe, any more. Am I wrong?” – Viera asked looking at the other woman pensively and Fringilla answered coldly:  
“No. You're not. Now, have you played enough with your prey?”  
“Ah... well... What you're saying is treason, sure... If His Imperial Majesty doesn't know about your presence here today. But as proof of this, I have only your words...”  
“More than enough to sentence me to death.”  
“OK. Leave, Fringilla. I need to think.”

Left alone, Viera looked at the letter in her hands once more. She more felt, than knew that this was exactly what Meve had been looking for. Her Queen planned the alliance with Dol Blathanna or at least this was what the Lyrian major suspected. If officers of the Vrihedd were to be set free... it would even be possible to forge it. Probably. Maybe...  
But the decision was not Viera's, thankfully... So she left the warehouse and headed to the camp, where Meve and Foltest were still deliberating.


	14. Coinneach Lammas 1268

COINNEACH

Lammas 1268  
Dillingen  
Temeria

So this was the end. As they left the ships in Dillingen, were walking on the quay and then the streets of the port town, Coinneach really didn't pay attention to anything. His mind seemed to have been shut down and he didn't think about anything at all. He barely registered Temerian soldiers around them and civilians, who in the end dragged Isengrim, Angus and Riordain away.

_We will meet again... There's nothing we can do any more..._

But the moment he entered the warehouse in the port town, he smelled the strangest thing in the world again...

_Jasmine..._  
_Is it to be my final memory?_

More a ghost, who seemed to be haunting him, than even a memory... The face, which he's never seen, but has been watching its shadow a hundred times in his dreams. That was truly a cruel end... It had something of a promise in it but much more of a disappointment.

_Like my dreams... in them I can almost reach out for her... but she eludes me. Why? A random meeting from so long ago... Why is she in my mind now?_

But it was all futile, after all. He was going to die. Here? In Drakenborg as Redanian mercenaries suggested, just before Lyrian soldiers stopped them from dragging more of Aen Seidhe officers away? Did it make a difference? Isengrim was gone, probably dead by now, along with Angus and Riordan... Along with so many others...

_It's high time to join them... But this scent..._

The last thought of the man about to be executed turned out to be the most interesting and irritating one. It was probably the fault of his own mind, which tried to shelter him from the fear. Some random thought, which was fascinating enough, could keep him from panic long enough to die with dignity.

_Jasmine and the phantom girl... Is it what my mind produces to calm me down? No naked Seidhe? No sex? No... I don't know... memories of home...?_  
_How frustrating... and fascinating._

Iorveth stood next to him, barely alive. The boy's wound was far from being healed and he was still very weak, after the journey from Cintra to this place probably feverish again... Coinneach observed for a long time Iorveth's healthy eye, which was closed now and his heavy breathing. The older commander closed his eyes, breathed heavily and looked at the Lyrian soldiers, standing in front of them.

_May it be quick... Iorveth... and others, they've lived through enough..._

Just as he pondered about the execution, a woman walked into the warehouse. She had almost white hair and a posture of a commander... maybe even a queen. She looked at all of them and stated only:  
“We agreed on amnesty. Go to Dol Blathanna, but make sure not to break any laws on your way. Anything you do from now on will not be pardoned.”

And she left. Lyrian soldiers uncuffed them all, but they were still too shocked to actually register it.  
“Coinneach?” – he barely heard Iorveth's voice.  
“Iorveth...” – he replied in a whisper.  
“What? What did she say?”  
“I... I'm not sure. She said, I think... that... we can go to Dol Blathanna. Iorveth!”

They looked at each other for a split of a second. Then... Iorveth really fainted. Coinneach got to him at once, but soon he heard Lyrian soldiers calling for the medic and one of them asked:  
“Do you know, if he's bleeding? We have bandages with us...”  
“No, it's fever” – he replied and looked strangely at the young, Lyrian man.  
“Medic will be here soon. We'll take him to the camp.”

Coinneach didn't reply but looked deep in the man's eyes. A day ago they would kill each other without blinking. Yesterday they were enemies... But now?

_Lyrians... now they're making it all even more complicated._


	15. Viera Lammas 1268

VIERA

Lammas 1268  
Dillingen  
Temeria

Viera observed the Aen Seidhe officers as they walked the streets of Dillingen to the warehouse. They were shackled, silent, probably for the first time in their lives they bowed their heads and walked slowly. They didn't look like the fiercest warriors, who walked this earth... But still, they probably were just that.  
Reynard and most of the Lyrian forces left Temeria a few days prior, to go back to Rivia to help Vilem. Only a small unit stayed with the Queen and Viera held the highest rank among them. This was the reason why just after the Aen Seidhe entered the building, it was general Jon Natalis himself who came to her and started slowly:  
“Major... we have a problem.”  
“What is it, general?” – she asked politely, looking questioningly at him.  
“Angus Bri Cri and Riordan were murdered in the port by mercenaries...” – he stated slowly and she exclaimed:  
“Fuck! Jon... where were your soldiers? What were Temerians doing?”  
“I... I'm sorry to say, that they were...” – he started, shame very clear in his voice, so she finished for him:  
“... bribed. Well... if the rest of them was to die inside it wouldn't be a problem, but we both know that it's not going to happen. Someone needs to be punished... or...” – she decided quickly and suggested: – “We need to lie, to stage that your men tried to stop them.”  
“To stage... you want to...?” – he asked in disbelief and she replied stoically:  
“We need to explain, why they're dead, while they were supposed to be alive, Jon. I don't want your men to lose their heads for it, do you?”  
“No. We'll find the mercenaries and we... will stage the fight.”  
“Great.”  
“Though... ahem... Isengrim Faoiltiarna escaped...” – he added in an even quieter voice. She looked at him bewildered before she inquired with irritation:  
“He was to be murdered, too? Thankfully, he escaped... gods... that would look terrible. But... we need to find him. I'm not sending my men if that's what you came here for, general. He is dangerous.”  
“You know, what may happen, if I send Vernon Roche...”  
“No! Gods... that would be even worse... All right, general. I'll look for him but first I intend to go home for a while. Meve will leave today with Keira Metz, but I intend to go on horseback, maybe I'll find some tracks on my way. But, on the other hand... roads are dangerous nowadays and no one could blame us if... something happened to him, could they?”  
“You... want him to die?”  
“I simply do not care whether he lives or dies. And he knows too much.”

As general Natalis heard her cold, cynical reply, he looked her deep in the eyes for a long time before he sighed and took his leave. Viera... Viera looked at the warehouse again but her face was frozen.  
On their way back to Lyria, Viera's men indeed found some tracks, which may have belonged to the famous Iron Wolf, but they've lost them soon, either way. With no clue where he would head, the search was truly pointless.  
They've also passed by many evidence of the recent war. In Sodden, fields were burnt, villages destroyed and empty. There, Viera started to understand that Emhyr var Emreis maybe had lost the war, but still got what he truly wanted: Temeria, Aedirn, Lyria and Rivia were broken. The prices of every-day products were so high, that almost none could buy them. Fields would need time to give yields again. Some towns and villages were destroyed beyond rebuilding. The Nordlings may have won the war... but what with it? They still paid too high a price for this victory. Now, they were weak – too weak to fight another war in the coming years. The only problem was, that it wouldn't be their decision.


	16. Coinneach Velen 1268

COINNEACH

Velen 1268  
Caed Dhu  
Angren  
Temeria

The road from Dillingen to Dol Blathanna was probably the strangest experience in his life and he lived through a lot. He was fighting against dh'oine from the North for ten years – first as a Scoia'tael commander and then as an officer of the Vrihedd Brigade. He has seen murder, rape, torture, disease and slow starvation. He has done a fair share of cruel things, too and he knew that the times when he believed himself to be a good person were long gone. He didn't intend to apologise or atone for what he has done, though. Most of the people, whom he met and killed, deserved much worse.  
Furthermore, he was beyond tired. Their lives... it was not the way to live: hiding in mountains, forests, on the verge of starvation. And Coinneach didn't remember any other life. As he was born, Aen Seidhe have already retreated to the Mountains and he was born in the Blue Mountains, close to Lyrian border. Later, he has met Filavandrel aén Fidháil and travelled with him for a long time through the mountains, from one hideout to another, until they've met a young man in Amell Range. The man, no more than a teenager by the time, had an extraordinary story and an extraordinary destiny – of that they were all certain. So, as more than twenty years later the same man claimed what was rightfully his – the throne of Nilfgaard, they weren't at all surprised as he invited them to the splendid City of Golden Towers.  
But he was surprised when Meve, Queen of Lyria and Rivia, allowed them to go free in Dillingen. That... that was surprising... Just a bit more than what they've heard later from Filavandrel's runner: that Enid aen Gleanna and Meve reached a secret agreement, and probably intend to forge an alliance. Arguably... well... that was the strangest thing in last years. The war has changed things, although no one knew whether it changed them for the better.  
As they've made a stop, Toruviel joined him quickly and they both walked slowly into the forest, not speaking at all. It was after a long time, as she said:  
“The forest feels healthier now than it felt as we were here the last time.”  
“Indeed. Maybe it is?” – Coinneach asked and looked at her with a smile.  
“We don't know, yet. Don't praise the day.”  
“I didn't intend to.”  
“Coinneach... you were right, but I was right, too” – she stated strongly and he agreed:  
“I know.”  
“How is it possible?”  
“There are no perfect solutions, Toru. There are only those, which work and those, which don't.”  
“I guess” – she sighed and added a question: – “Do you believe that Enid and Meve plan a war?”  
“Together? Against whom? It doesn't make any sense to me. So, I don't know.”

They walked further and she continued quietly:  
“Isengrim... do you want to talk about him?”  
“No. Not yet. It could be anyone... It... gods... it didn't need to happen” – he replied with difficulty.  
“Yes. But they've wanted the Iron Wolf... We all made him a target. It isn't your fault, not yours alone at least.”  
“Did you try to make me feel better?”  
“Yes. Did it work?”  
“Not really.”  
“Well...”

Soon, they went back to their small camp. Coinneach headed at once to Iorveth's tent. The young Seidhe was lying almost lifeless, staring at the ceiling. The boy was much healthier by now, his wound started to heal but... the loss and the scar will never go away. Neach looked at him with worry and started:  
“Iorveth, fraere...”  
“I'm fine” – the younger commander replied automatically.  
“We're heading home.”  
“Yeah.”  
“You'll feel better there. We'll take care of you.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Is there anything...?” – Coinneach hesitated and soon heard the harsh question in reply:  
“Can you give me my eye back?”  
“No.”  
“Then, go away, Neach.”

The older commander only sighed heavily and left. He looked at the men gathered in the camp and pondered on the silliest question of all:

_Why did it happen to us?_

It seemed like only the most naïve questions came to his mind lately. But now... now maybe there was hope, too. Either way, he was tired. Terribly, incredibly tired, as all of them were. All in all, what they all yearned for was home, peace and quiet.


	17. Sebastian Velen 1268

SEBASTIAN

Velen 1268  
Caed Dhu  
Angren  
Temeria

The carriage and its escort were travelling from Temeria to Rastburg in Lyria. The war was long over, the peace treaty was signed and in force... Everything seemed to be at peace at last, although much was lost, Sebastian knew it very well. The people in Lyria and Rivia... lived in relative peace and stability for decades, still, the war brought some disturbance to their way of life, as well. Queen Meve was determined to bring more tolerance, a better life for all in her kingdom... Still, many opposed her. But not Sebastian Davell. No, he has never been an intolerant or hateful person. Even during the time of war, he never believed Elder Races to be anything less than fellow citizens of Lyria and Rivia. Even, when they fought against humans. Then – they were combatants, maybe foes, but still part of their people.  
He, his family and men were travelling through a deep, old forest called Caed Dhu. The trees grew there densely and everything was covered by a deep shadow, however, it was the mid-day. Druids left this place some time ago and now it was ominously abandoned. As they were at the edge of the ancient centre of the forest, no more than a few days ride from Rastburg, he saw an arrow hitting one of his guards right in the chest. Later, another of his men fell to the ground. Sebastian turned his horse around and reached for his own long-bow. Then, he saw them: men, probably bandits, cloaked in black, with masks and hoodies covering their faces. The fight started. The fight, which Lyrians had no chance to win – they were surrounded and outnumbered by far.

_Arlette and kids... No..._

The mare thought of his wife and children, travelling in the carriage, almost knocked him down. Sebastian himself... he was ready to die, but them... No. That simply couldn't happen. As his thoughts were becoming gradually more frantic as more and more attackers approached them – something unexpected happened. The bandits turned into prey – the unseen archers, hidden in between the trees, were killing them one by one. Soon the fight was over. Sebastian looked around but saw no one.

_Probably Temerian or Rivian soldiers. They'll come to us._

Sebastian called to his wife, who was still in the carriage, with heart clenched from fear:  
“Arlette, my love?”  
“We're fine, Bash” – she answered, trying to keep her voice calm.  
“Stay inside.”  
“We will.”

Then, he ran to his guards. Five were wounded, four dead. Sebastian was kneeling for a long time near one of them – Jeal. For many he would be just a guard, but for him... Jeal was one of his men, who was with him the longest. A friend. Sebastian was still kneeling, when he heard a male's calm voice which he didn't recognise:  
“Are you all right?”  
“Yes, thank...” – he started to reply while turning his head to the side. Then... he froze.

The man, who stood behind him, was not one of his men, nor was he Temarian or Rivian soldier... He was a Seidhe. And no ordinary Seidhe, either. This Seidhe... was certainly a warrior, so probably he was a former Scoia'tael. Maybe even a commander... He had a long, light brown hair and the face... Gods... even Sebastian, as straight as he was, believed that this Seidhe was too handsome even for his own race.  
“Commander...” – Sebastian started hesitatingly after a long time of silence.  
“Coinneach Da Réo” – the man introduced himself stoically.  
“It's an honour... I... I didn't even remotely expect the rescue. The more: thank you.”  
“It's quite all right. I've heard that we owe your Queen a lot” – the Seidhe stated a little bit coldly, but Sebastian continued:  
“I've heard it, as well. I... How can I repay you?”  
“There's no need.”  
“Of course there is.”

Bash looked at the man once more and turned to the rest of Aen Seidhe, who approached them. He recognised some of them from the descriptions given by Lyrian intelligence and guessed the rest. Twenty-nine Seidhe, who just encircled them, were no other than the officers of the Vrihedd Brigade. Seidhe, who a year ago would probably murder him given a chance. But now... well... now they were at peace, so he stated:  
“Let me offer you the hospitality of my house. You travelled a long way and you still have a very long way to Dol Blathanna.”

Coinneach Da Réo scrutinized him with uncertainty and distrust. Until the attack on Lyria and Rivia... there was no war between Aen Seidhe and Lyrians, but during the war... well... Scoia'tael would be imprisoned in the best case scenario, executed in the worst if they were caught alive. Still... the commander knew more now, as well. So, however reluctantly, he replied:  
“Thank you, we are grateful to accept.”  
“The hospitality is my duty as a Lyrian. But honour still demands the payment for our lives: my men's, my family's and my own. The life debt is not a one easy to pay” – Sebastian continued.  
“I demand nothing from you. I'm starting to believe, that maybe you would do the same, given a chance.”  
“I would. But it's a duty to help fellow travellers on the road” – Sebastian took a deep breath. – “Then... let me call the oldest law known to men: the law of surprise” – he stated stubbornly and the Seidhe replied slowly:  
“You are a gambler.”  
“But the gamble is fair: I'll give you what I find at home yet don't expect.”

The Seidhe scrutinised him, his men and carriage for a while. Then, he took a deep breath, smirked and said:  
“Hopefully a foal, I always loved horses and you look like a man, who may have a good stable”.  
“I do and in a matter of fact, you may be lucky: one of my mares, Evenstar, should give birth soon” – Sebastian replied and smiled, as well.  
“Evenstar... It's a good name” – Coinneach nodded and agreed: – “Then, it's a deal.”

They smiled at each other and headed to his fallen men and the rest. As Bash inspected the attackers, he understood at once who they were: Nilfgaardian soldiers. In Angren some Nilfgaardian vagabonds and deserters could still be found... evidently.

_Those fucking bastards._

Arlette left the carriage just in time to meet his eyes, looked around them at the faces of the officers of the Vrihedd Brigade and understood at once, what has happened, but she spoke nothing. She only nodded slightly to him and joined the children in the carriage.  
Coinneach never asked his last name and Sebastian was reluctant to give it up too early. They headed to his new palace in Rastburg slowly, but their rescuers were unaware of their destination until they've reached the gates a few days later. There, Coinneach looked at him, pondering for a long time, before he said:  
“I've never asked your last name, have I, Bash?”  
“No, you haven't” – he replied with a smirk.  
“Hmm... is this your home?” – the Seidhe asked and pointed his head to the palace.  
“Yes, it is. My name is Sebastian Davell... friends call me Bash.”  
“I...” – Coinneach huffed a bit. – “Unexpected, indeed.”  
“Excuse my lack of manners, but it's a habit. On the road... it's safer to hide my identity.”  
“I would most certainly say so” – the commander paused before he added: – “So... you were given Caldwell's lands after Queen Meve took back her throne and punished those who betrayed her?”  
“Not only his. Lands of the traitors were indeed divided between Queen's loyal servants. My family never stopped supporting her and my sister was at her side during her exile. She is a major of the Lyrian cavalry now.”  
“Banners on the palace walls...” – Coinneach paused, looking again at the palace, then turned to Bash with a bit surprised expression: – “The white manticore. Your sister is the famous Manticore, isn't she?” – he asked pensively, raising his eyebrows and added slowly: – “The one who led the Nordling vanguard at the second battle of Aldersberg.”  
“Yes” – Sebastian answered proudly but paused. – “Are you coming?” – he asked and smiled, as his men were opening gates to the garden. – “Let's head to stables.”

The former officer of the Vrihedd Brigade chuckled, shook slightly his head, looked at his men, but accepted the invitation in the end and joined him on the way.

In the gardens, the Seidhe was carefully scanning his surroundings but rode calmly ahead. As Sebastian dismounted his stallion, Coinneach joined him and they both headed to the gates of the stable. But just as Sebastian's hand touched the handle, he heard a voice:  
“My lord, we've heard what had happened. We're glad, that you're back and I've also heard how you survived...” – Edward Sarvin, captain of Lyrian Cavalry and one of the men serving under his sister, approached them and looked at Coinneach with a wide grin: – “Commander, thank you for your assistance.”  
“Think nothing of it” – the Seidhe replied but shook Edward's extended hand.

Before Sebastian could say more, Edward stated:  
“Sebastian, quite unexpectedly, Viera has come to Rastburg sooner. She's with Queen Meve in the general room.”

Sebastian stopped breathing. All of his thoughts died out and he felt as if his heart stopped beating for a split of a second, as well. He looked at Edward with wide, unseeing eyes and spoke nothing for a long time. Then, he asked in a strange, choked voice:  
“Ahem... What did you say?”  
“I... hmm... Viera was expected to come in a few weeks, but she's here already. I... Bash? Are you all right?” – Edward inquired with worry.  
“She's going to kill me” – he whispered in disbelief.  
“Why? Bash?”

Lord Davell was speechless again, but he felt Coinneach's gaze on him, so he turned to the man. The Seidhe had both eyebrows raised high and looked questioningly at him. After a long time, Sebastian explained:  
“Viera... she's my sister.”  
“What? You mean... I... fuck” – he swore at the end but continued: – “Sebastian... I will never...”  
“I gave you my word and I'll never break it” – Bash cut in: – “It's... not about you. It's about her... she... she'll murder me, but... the promise was made.”  
“My lord? What are you...?” – Edward asked but trailed off looking at Sebastian's terrified expression.

It was Arlette, who joined them in the meantime, who answered him:  
“The law of surprise. For the rescue, Bash offered to Coinneach what he'll find home but didn't expect. We all, including Coinneach, hoped for a foal...”  
“Evenstar didn't give birth yet...” – Edward replied absent-mindedly and paused. – “I... she'll be furious.”  
“Like hell. Have you seen a Skelliger storm, commander?” – his wife asked Coinneach with a dark smirk.  
“No...” – Coinneach replied hesitatingly.  
“Well... it doesn't matter. It still wouldn't prepare you for what you'll about to encounter: they call her the Manticore for a reason. And, well, you'll see...” – she finished and sighed.  
“What?” – Coinneach asked with growing nervousness.  
“During the war... you were on the wrong side of the battlefield. The Queen made her decision and Viera would never undermine it, but she, herself... she is not of a forgiving nature.”

The Aen Seidhe commander looked at her in disbelieve and then he looked at Sebastian. They all knew, that it wasn't what they all had hoped for...


	18. Meve Velen 1268

MEVE

Velen 1268  
Rastburg  
Lyria and Rivia

The small palace in Rastburg enchanted her every time she was there. Even when Caldwell was the master of this land, she loved coming here, but now... Now it almost felt like home. Viera and Sebastian Davell were one of her closest and most loyal men... next to Reynard and Gascon...

_Gascon..._

Well, the memory still brought sorrow to her mind, but the man died a hero. And there was nothing anyone could do. Not now, not even then.  
Reynard stayed in Rivia with Vilem, at last preparing the boy for the inevitable. Meve has learned her lesson – as a queen and as a mother. She understood that she needed to prepare the boy to rule after she is gone. So, soon after the war and the Peace of Cintra, she left her son to rule over her kingdom and travelled first to Temeria and then through Lyria and Rivia: staying with her people and with her lords. The Queen was making sure that her reforms are implemented, what wasn't an easy job. But about the lord of Rastburg she didn't need to worry. The Davells had elven blood in their veins and always made it clear, that they would never stand for inequality... even if Viera wasn't particularly happy with Meve's decision in Dillingen.  
Meve's position of the heroin of the war and the one who stood against Nilfgaard even when she was left alone – gave her the power to insist on allowing the Aen Seidhe officers to go free. Why would she do it?

_Eldain..._

Yes, the memory of the commander who died fighting against her was one of the reasons, but not the most important one. The most important was her meeting with Francesca Findabair and... let's say: a secret alliance. Why would they forge an alliance? Well... after the war Meve lost the last of respect she had for Demawend. So she started to wonder about the future, but...

_Let's leave it for now._

That day, Meve and Viera were sitting in the spacious general room of Rastburg palace, drinking wine and waiting for her brother to return. They were silent for a while, but the young major started in the end:  
“The alliance with Francesca Findabair...”  
“Yes” – Meve replied shortly.  
“It may be a brilliant plan... or a catastrophe...” – the younger woman continued and the Queen replied calmly once again:  
“I'm fully aware.”  
“You cannot control them... and you don't know anything about their true motives and reasons...”  
“I know.”  
“Meve...” – Viera started, but she interrupted her:  
“Let's leave it for now. For now what we want from them is peace and I believe, that they would grant it to us” – she paused for a second and changed the subject: – “What did you hear on your way? How are my people?”  
“Meve... your lords don't accept your new policy towards Elder Races, because they believe that Scoia'tael have never paid for their crimes. They can understand that you chose not to punish ordinary soldiers, but the ones who were giving orders... who actually pledged their fealty to the Nilfgaardian Emperor...”  
“You know why.”  
“I do, my Queen, but they don't. And they probably won't.”  
“Don't you understand them?”  
“Who? Aen Seidhe? Freedom or death? Obviously, I do. But they were on the wrong side of the battlefield. The North remembers, Meve. If it was only about fighting in the woods... more would be ready to forgive, but not after the occupation.”

Meve stood up and walked to the window. There, she was looking at the line of the horizon for a long time, before she stated strongly:  
“We will force them to comply with my laws, Viera. I am their Queen and in this matter, Vilem went even further than I did.”  
“Is it...?”

But Viera didn't finish her question, because the door to the room burst open and Sebastian stood in the doorway. He bowed deeply and greeted them both. Afterwards, he was still standing, looking strangely at his sister as he started to speak:  
“Viera... I... There's something I need to tell you.”  
“Won't you hug me first? Aren't you happy to see me, brother?” – the young major asked in a little bit irritated voice.  
“Obviously, I am, but...” – he didn't make a move, looked at her with fear in his eyes and repeated: – “We need to talk.”

Viera raised her eyebrows high but replied in the end:  
“You can speak openly, brother.”  
“We were attacked in Caed Dhu by Nilfgaardian deserters. We had no chance to survive, I lost four men. But then... we were rescued. Miraculously” – he stated, looking from his sister to his queen nervously.  
“I... by whom? We owe them a lot.”  
“Indeed” – he agreed and swallowed loudly before he continued: – “I... suggested... the law of surprise.”  
“What new things do we have...?” – Viera smiled. – “I brought with me a lot of money, some jewellery...”  
“I...” – he hesitated but continued quietly: – “I didn't expect to find you home, Viera.”  
“What?!” – both women exclaimed, looked at him with wide eyes and Viera stood up immediately, starting:  
“I...” – but she trailed off with indignation on her face.  
“But you can't. It's not how it is done in your family...” – Meve started, but Viera interrupted her with horror:  
“But still he is the paterfamilias... He still can, even if he shouldn't!”  
“I couldn't have known, sis! I...” – he wanted to continue, but she cut him short:  
“What was the exact wording of the promise?”  
“ _I'll give you what I find at home yet don't expect_.”  
“And you want to give... ME?!” – she exclaimed furiously.  
“I... want? No! But... I promised... it's not what we hoped for, but then Edward found us at the stables and announced, that you were back. And... it turned out that unintentionally, I promised your...” – he trailed off and swallowed.  
“Fuck. Don't even say that out loud” – she stopped him and ended stoically – “I'll kill them.”  
“What?! The law of hospitality!”  
“Not in your home. When they leave...”  
“You can't” – Sebastian said calmly and Viera asked at once:  
“Why?”  
“Because it was our Queen who decided to keep them alive.”  
“What? What are you talking about? Who rescued you, Sebastian?” – she asked furiously.  
“Officers of the Vrihedd Brigade. I made my promise to... Coinneach Da Réo...”

The silence, which followed his confession, was dead.


	19. Viera Velen 1268

VIERA

Velen 1268  
Rastburg  
Lyria and Rivia

Viera was looking for a long time in silence at her brother, whom – right now – she wanted to tear to pieces. But... then... she started to wonder.

_What was the chance of something like that happening? 1%? Less?_

So, she looked at Sebastian sternly and asked:  
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”  
“I... we hoped for a foal... Evenstar...” – he replied quietly and she exclaimed again:  
“A foal! So you should have promised him a foal, but you shouldn't have called on the law of surprise! Do I look like a foal to you?”  
“I... didn't expect to find you home, sister...”  
“So you shouldn't have gambled like that! Gods...”  
“I... sis... we can...” – he trailed off and breathed heavily.

Then, suddenly Viera burst into laughter. She even sat back down and almost rolled in her chair. As she could breathe again, she asked:  
“You are joking, aren't you?”  
“What?” – he inquired a little bit confused.  
“You are joking. I should have known from the very beginning of this charade, that you are. You wouldn't do something so incredibly stupid: you are the cautious one in our family. Gods... I cannot wait to see mum's face when I tell her about this stupid joke of yours...” – she huffed, looked at him with raised eyebrows, although he was still playing his game and had a stern expression.

Afterwards, she stood up and went downstairs to the foyer to greet her sister-in-law, niece and nephew. On her way, Viera caught a glimpse of Arlette's hair in the ballroom and stated laughingly, while entering:  
“Your husband has the oddest sense of humour. You know, what he just claimed? He stated, that 'accidentally' he paid a debt offering my hand...” – but she didn't finish.

Arlette was looking at her with tension in her features and as Viera walked into the ballroom, she at once realised: why... Then, she froze and all of her thoughts died out for a minute. She could hear her own heavy breathing when she looked at them.  
There were some thirty Aen Seidhe in the ballroom, male and female... all cloaked in travelling attire. At first... Viera recognised Saraid – the woman whom she had met in Moulderwood more than a year ago. The Seidhe recognised her as well and raised her eyebrows very high. Then, the Lyrian major looked at the rest. Isengrim Faoiltiarna was still missing. She recognised commander Iorveth by his newly acquired scar and commander Lóegairen by his long, blond hair falling in gracious waves, and some others. She has never met most of them, but she knew most of Lyrian, Aedirnian and Temerian intelligence materials by heart. So, she knew of them.  
This was why she also knew that Iorveth used the same famous technique to interrogate his prisoners, as his older friend, Isengrim – the anthill. Not just an anthill, though... She also knew that Lóegairen was known from skinning people alive, just like once Eldain... Furthermore, she has read or heard about few... actions, including terrorist attacks, arsons, random killing in Lyrian, Rivian, but mostly Aedirnian villages... Description of the smell of burning human flesh was still almost vivid in her mind. But she didn't need the description... She was with Meve in Moulderwood and learned first-handed the famous Aen Seidhe hospitality...

_Oh... yes... What a merry company of merry mass murderers do we have here?_

But Viera knew that none of them was her nightmare... But he was here, too... She has seen him in Dillingen, however, she could never match the face to the name. There were some descriptions of handsome Scoia'tael commanders with brown hair, but they were mostly written by men... She needed more details to know, which one of them might be the one whom she has met years ago. She still remembered well his long, brown hair, in Dillingen fastened in a ponytail and those amber eyes...  
For a long while the time seemed to stop, but then... one of the commanders made a few steps, passed his comrades and stepped forward, looking at her intently.

_So... You are here, aren't you? And you haven't aged a day... Damn..._

Soon, Viera heard her brother's and Meve's footsteps and they stood in the doorway. She glimpsed at Sebastian, who truly looked fearful, as he took a deep breath and stated:  
“Commander, may I introduce my sister: major Viera Davell. Sister...” – Bash swallowed loudly – “This is commander Coinneach Da Réo...” – and he motioned to the man, who stood few steps ahead of the rest.

_So... gods... a long time ago I could have got rid of this problem, years before it became a problem... Idiot._

And she started to laugh bitterly, a little bit hysterically.


	20. Coinneach Velen 1268

COINNEACH

Velen 1268  
Rastburg  
Lyria and Rivia

As Arlette led them to the palace and then to the grand, spacious and elegant ballroom, he tried to remember everything he knew about the law of surprise... As Sebastian offered this payment in the forest... Neach knew that it wasn't the best idea, but as they settled on the foal... he agreed. They've just forgotten, that it was not their agreement what shaped the nature of the payment but destiny itself... And destiny decided to play a very cruel joke on both of them.

_His sister... for god's sake... What am I to do with his sister? A fucking dh'oine... inh'eid... hmm... well... But still: how to interpret the promise now?_

Coinneach has heard a bit about the Child of Surprise... Cirilla Fiona Ellen Riannon and Gwynbleidd. He knew that one couldn't refuse to take, what the law of surprise granted him or her. But... what now? A grown woman... what destiny demanded from both of them now?

_Well... customarily... if their father was dead and I believe, that he is... Sebastian as paterfamilias could... give her hand in marriage, but...! Come on... I'm not going to marry, even less this dh'oine girl. That's ridiculous..._

In the ballroom, Coinneach stood by the window and looked down at a beautiful maze covering the bigger part of the palace gardens.

_A maze indeed... What the fuck tempted me to meddle... I..._

But his thoughts were interrupted by a female voice. The voice... which he suddenly recognised, so he turned his head quickly in its direction and just in time to hear her mocking remark, and to observe her entrance to the ballroom. She was quite tall and wore only black. She had medium-cut, black, straight hair, which moved as she spoke and froze as she froze, looking in disbelief at all of them. Then, he could see her face. Even from a distance he noticed her high cheekbones, nice, even beautiful features and blue eyes now cold like sky in the winter morning. Her complexion was flawless, incredibly pale, making her look like...

_The Lady of the Winter..._

But it wasn't her voice, which almost caused him to fell to his knees. No, it was the jasmine fragrance which soon followed her to the room. The rational part of his mind was very clear, that he couldn't smell her from such a distance. It was simply impossible. But this part of his mind was definitely in retreat right now. All the rest of his body and mind reacted to the strange, inexplicable sensation.  
Time seemed to abandon them for good and for a moment... For a moment he felt as if they were alone in some non-existent place beyond time and space. For a moment, the only thing, which existed in this surreal vision, was her. All sort of incoherent shreds of thoughts crossed his mind at this moment, as everything seemed more real than ever and less so, simultaneously.  
Then, he was back in reality. Coinneach felt as if he sobered up in a few seconds. He realised, that unintentionally he made few steps towards her and he heard Sebastian's voice, introducing them to each other. She only laughed, but he could hear fear, bitterness and confusion in her laughter, and soon he understood.

_She spared my life all those years ago... and now she is trapped. She doesn't know yet, that the feeling is mutual._

As she calmed down, Coinneach nodded his head politely and stated:  
“This is truly a pleasure to make your acquittance, major. Destiny seems to be playing jokes on both of us at its pleasure, but I'm sure that we'll find a way out of this... arrangement”.

She gathered herself and curtseyed quite gracefully for a soldier in trousers before she replied politely:  
“The pleasure is mine, commander. But, I believe that my brother failed to introduce the most important guest of the palace, Her Grace Queen Meve” – and she motioned to the queen who smiled with confusion.  
“Your Grace, it's an honour to meet you in more... favourable circumstances” – Coinneach stated politely, looking at the White Queen.  
“Commanders, I... ahem...” – the Queen cleared her throat. – “I'm glad to meet you here, as well.”

Then, the most awkward silence fell on the room. It would probably last for some time, if not for the arrival of the man, who had greeted them at the stables... in a way sealing their fate. He came to Sebastian, looked strangely at all of them and stated:  
“My lord... Evenstar gave birth to a mare...”

Sebastian looked fearfully at his sister and stated in no more than a whisper:  
“It's your turn.”

Viera turned to him, chuckling darkly and replied sarcastically, in a strong voice which almost made them all shiver from the hidden threat:  
“Oh, I see that the most important decision of the last days falls to me! I'm truly honoured, brother. She's born a little bit too late, but I cannot call her: Too Late, can I? Let's settle on: Irony, then. What's her colour?” – she turned to Edward, who replied quietly:  
“Black, raven black.”  
“Ah!” – she laughed darkly again and turned to Coinneach, saying: – “Then, commander, you got exactly what you wanted: black-haired mare... just of the wrong species.”

He didn't reply. He knew very well that whatever he would say now would be wrong. Viera's features turned into a mask when she continued:  
“I've also heard, that my brother offered you the hospitality of his house, which you shall receive. Our servants will show you to the rooms once they're ready and the feast will be waiting for us at dusk. Now, please excuse me.”

She bowed her head slightly and left the room. Queen Meve followed her shortly. Sebastian and Arlette started to breathe normally again – when the major was still in the ballroom they seemed as if they expected the storm to break any minute.

Coinneach... took a deep breath and said to Sebastian:  
“We need to find a way to get us all out of this. It's... it's simply wrong.”

Sebastian nodded, but Arlette stated calmly and quietly:  
“Commander... you cannot outsmart or outrun the destiny... If you try... bad things will follow. I now suspect, who you are... It's not the first time your paths have crossed, is it?”  
“What do you mean?” – Coinneach asked slowly.  
“'Too late... Viera emphasised it for you to hear. The two of you have met for the first time almost seven years ago, didn't you?”

Everyone in the ballroom looked with surprise at lady Davell and at him.


	21. Meve Velen 1268

MEVE

Velen 1268  
Rastburg  
Lyria and Rivia

As Meve followed Viera back to the general room, she was decidedly more than confused. She suspected... curses – a lot of them, threats... Maybe even a fight – a real storm which her young major could break, if she chose to. But, surprisingly, this time it looked as if she didn't intend to do it. The queen entered the room and closed the door quickly.  
Viera was leaning on the table with her legs crossed leisurely. On her face there was a very dangerous smirk, so Meve asked:  
“Viera? What's your plan?”  
“We shall have a wedding” – she answered and smirked even more darkly.  
“Red Wedding? We're just missing a wolf for that, my dear...” – the Queen stated sarcastically and her major asked suspiciously:  
“What? Do you want to kill them?”  
“I... you know, that I don't. But you are my most loyal... friend. You are my friend, Viera, even if I believed for a long time, that a queen cannot have friends. But you... you were there for me always, even in the darkest hour... You were loyal, always truthful and always there to tell me, that I was wrong when I was. You even suspected Xavier... even if all the rest told you, that you are wrong... but you weren't. And Gascon... you also suspected, what he agreed to do and it was you, who watched him until he decided otherwise... and confessed to me. My point is” – she stated, swallowing tears threatening to run down her cheeks. – “My point is, that I couldn't wish for a more loyal friend, than you are, Viera. Even Reynard...”  
“Reynard was, is and will always be loyal to you” – the major interrupted strongly, but Meve chuckled darkly and replied:  
“Because he is a man... and I'm not. Unlike you... he wanted something for a very long time. But you, Viera... you never asked for anything. You even refused the promotion the first time I offered it to you, back in Mahakam. You waited until the second battle of Aldersberg so that no one could say, that you didn't deserve it. I've never given you anything you haven't work for... longer or harder than others. So... now... if you want to get rid of your problem: I'm here for you. I'll refuse to watch you being trapped in someone else's promise, even your brother's.”  
“I...” – Viera looked at her with wide eyes for a long time and swallowed hard, too, before she continued: – “Thank you, Meve. I... I do consider you a friend, too, although I still see you as my Queen. But... what I have in mind doesn't require such drastic measures. I want them alive.”  
“For what?”  
“I've told you: a wedding. Meve... this is the solution to most of our problems with Dol Blathanna.”

Meve was speechless for a long time. She still didn't fully comprehend, what she just heard, as the young woman continued:  
“Coinneach Da Réo is one of the most renowned and respected commanders. He is second only to Isengrim Faoiltiarna and, as we've both heard, only because he chose to be the second. He is older, more experienced and much closer to Filavandrel aén Fidháil. He'll have a meaningful position in Dol Blathannian Army, which is now being created. He'll know things disclosed only to a few. Things which we need to know, as well.”  
“You... want to marry him to... spy on him?” – the Queen inquired in a whisper.  
“To use him to spy for us. Yes” – Viera smiled mischievously and added: – “We both know, that men talk... when they're happy. I just need to keep him happy as long as we need it. And to find... a way to make him talk even more.”  
“A way?”  
“I'm sure that Keira will help us with it but she cannot know why. She is a part of the Lodge of Sorceresses, along with Francesca Findabair...”  
“But, Viera... he's an experienced man...” – Meve trailed off, but Viera stated:  
“There are two things which every man desires: youth and fertility... or at least a promise of the latter. I'm still young enough to play this role.”  
“You want to play a very dangerous game” – the Queen stated slowly, but Viera replied without hesitation:  
“Yes, but if I play it right... we may gain much more than we can lose. We just need to play the destiny card... that it cannot be avoided, that we must follow the requirements of the Law of Surprise. I don't even need to marry him per se... I just need to be close enough.”  
“This is why you used the reference... gods. Viera... you are a terribly dangerous person.”  
“Breeding mare” – the young woman grinned. – “You see... the idea is like a seed: on the right soil, watered and fertilized... it grows until it's no longer a seed but a whole new plant. He must come to the right conclusion on his own. Maybe even tonight... But, later, no one will say, that I had anything to do with it or that I intend to spy. After all, it was destiny, wasn't it?” – she asked ironically and smirked again.

Both women went silent and looked at each other knowingly. Meve realised that it may be a good plan. It may even be a brilliant plan. Still, it definitely was a dangerous plan. Regardless of the risk, Meve also understood that she would lose her young major for a time or even for good.


	22. Coinneach Velen 1268

COINNEACH

Velen 1268  
Rastburg  
Lyria and Rivia

A few hours between the strange meeting and the feast, Coinneach spent mostly in the astonishing maze. He was strolling alone, lazily, trying not to think at all. Then, he joined his men in the incredible baths of the palace, which truly reminded him of some of the baths made by Aen Seidhe a long time ago. At last, he got to his room, changed to deep-blue set more appropriate for the occasion than his worn off travelling attire and went downstairs.  
Host and hostess were already in the ballroom, along with queen Meve, waiting for the arrival of their guests. Coinneach was quite impressed, that in such a short time they managed not only to get their men to prepare the feast but also invited musicians and a bard. Quite a famous bard, too: Jaskier, known even to Aen Seidhe... However, among Aen Seidhe he didn't have the best reputation... Coinneach has seen him only once, a decade ago in Dol Blathanna... Both of them were younger then, as well. Coinneach himself probably didn't seem to age in that time, but the man... well... he was well in his middle-age now. The bard didn't recognise him, because he never really had a chance to look at him. So, as Coinneach approached, it was Sebastian who introduced them:  
“Jaskier, may I introduce commander Coinneach Da Réo. Commander, this is Jaskier, our bard for tonight.”  
“Pleasure, commander” – the man said and bowed politely, as he replied:  
“Likewise. I've never heard you sing.”  
“Well... I guess that I'm lucky, then” – the bard replied and smiled a bit shyly.  
“Probably. However... I'm still not recommending going to Dol Blathanna. Filavandrel has never forgiven you for the song... how was it called... ah... 'Toss a coin to your witcher...'?” – Coinneach asked ironically.

Jaskier swallowed hard, but Coinneach smiled again and stated reassuringly:  
“Don't worry. I believe that it's the least of our problems.”  
“I... well... I'm glad and probably a few months ago I would be more remorseful, but now... Still, I can promise you that I will never sing it again.”  
“I can say that I'm glad, though... it's your most popular song... Why would you stop singing it?”  
“Geralt is...” – the bard swallowed again but continued: – “Dead. I just can't.”

The tension in the room became unnerving, so Coinneach decided to say:  
“I'm sorry. Let's... leave it in peace, then.”  
“Indeed. Commander, please join me at the table” – the Queen offered with a smile and allowed him to lead her to the table.

All were seated at the table and the best wine was poured to their cups. For a while, he was conversing politely with Meve, who inquired:  
“So, commander, what awaits you in Dol Blathanna?”  
“I must admit that I have no clue. It has been a long time since I was in contact with Enid or Filavandrel.”  
“But as experienced warrior and leader as you are... well... The newly rebuilt army probably awaits you.”  
“I'm afraid so... Although the only thing I yearn for is...”

But Coinneach never finished his sentence. He made a mistake of looking at the door and saw the woman who was just joining them. Viera. Well... she was truly a vision that night. Her black hair contrasted with the silver, long and strapless dress, which clung closely to her body, revealing its full shapes. He stopped breathing and all the thoughts in his mind died out, again, so only the words of Jaskier's song, played in the background, were in his head:

_The fairer sex, they often call it_  
_But her love’s as unfair as a crook_  
_It steals all my reason_  
_Commits every treason_  
_Of logic, with naught but a look_  
_A storm breaking on the horizon_  
_Of longing and heartache and lust_  
_She’s always bad news_  
_It’s always lose, lose_  
_So tell me love, tell me love_  
_How is that just?_

But the woman didn't even spare him a glance, walked gracefully to the table and took a seat next to her sister-in-law. After her entrance, everything went back to normal. They ate, drunk and conversed about some trivia. Meve told him how she convinced dwarfs from Mahakam to help her and he, in turn, told her how he has met the Emperor of Nilfgaard. Although, he never told her that he has met Duny... and that Emhyr and Duny were the same person... Indeed, the evening was going rather well.  
After maybe an hour, Meve called to the bard with a smile:  
“Jaskier, play something more suitable to dance.” – Then, she turned to him and asked: – “Commander?”  
“Would you like to dance, Your Grace?” – he offered at once.

Soon, the floor was full of dancing pairs, all whirling gracefully to the music. He then invited their hostess for the next dance and the idyllic scene went on. But as they finished and bowed to each other... His eyes met those incredible, blue orbs which he so desperately tried to avoid. As Arlette and Lóegairen moved, Coinneach and Viera stood in front of each other and it would be simply rude not to ask:  
“Major? May I have this dance?”

She smiled slightly, made a few steps towards him and replied:  
“Yes, commander, you may.”

As he caught her hand and touched her waist... the bard did it again. Oh, yes... he played the same, bittersweet tune again and they started to dance. Obviously, the sweet fragrance of jasmine this time fully surrounded him like a fog, pulling him once more in the strange state between reality and dream. But this time... this time more things were working against him... the warmth of her body, her breath tickling his neck and the way she allowed him to lead her in dance.  
The last thing was probably the most adorable of them all. From time to time he felt that she wanted to take the lead, that she almost sneaked out of his embrace, but then... then she always stopped herself. As he pulled her closer, just after she made a pirouette, she even drew the air in surprise and glanced at him with a challenge in her eyes but soon she chuckled softy.  
As she bowed in the end and left him, not looking back... he was extremely grateful that the song was short.


	23. Viera Velen 1268

VIERA

Velen 1268  
Rastburg  
Lyria and Rivia

In the morning after the feast, Viera woke up quite early, but later than usual. The last evening, she left the party at midnight, rather tired of playing her role. But that night was just the beginning. Now, she bathed, dressed up and headed downstairs for a quick breakfast. Unfortunately, on the staircase... she met the one person she so desperately didn't want to meet:  
“Commander” – she greeted him politely and Coinneach replied:  
“Major. You are an early bird, aren't you?”  
“You're up earlier than expected, too.”  
“Well, I wanted to take a ride in the morning. The lands here are enchanting...”

_Fuck... morning ride is my routine. MINE... fuck!_

Obviously, she only smiled and offered politely:  
“I was just heading for breakfast and then to the stables. Would you like to join me?”  
“Thank you, I'll be happy to” – he, obviously, politely agreed.

_Shit..._

So they ended up walking together to the kitchen. Inside, Viera greeted servants who have already been preparing the meal:  
“Dorkis, Meadow, Phil, good morning.”  
“Mistress, what do you fancy today for the....?” – Dorkis started but didn't finish.

The cook noticed Coinneach and was observing him with eyes wide opened and shock clearly visible on her face. Viera has been going to the kitchens every morning since she was a child and they lived more to the North, in a lonely castle on the small island on Yavina, North from Elsterberg. Her presence in the kitchen was nothing new to the cooks. But a guest of the lord of the palace in the kitchen... That was definitely something new, so Viera smiled apologetically and stated:  
“We intend to go for a ride... Some breakfast will be a good idea, but it's still more than an hour to the official meal. I'll just grab something as always and leave you to your work. Sorry, Dorkis.”  
“I... ahem... of course, major.”

Viera quickly grabbed the basket and reached for cheese, some bread and a bottle of juice. Then, she headed for fruits and vegetables, smiled again to the cooks and left the kitchen with Coinneach. As they left the palace, she invited him to the table in the gardens. There they ate, chatting about some trivia. At last, they left the table and the basket, heading to the stables.  
As the sun was rising, they rode out of the gardens and headed North-East in silence. After maybe an hour, they stopped at the riverbank of the Yavina from where they could see the isle. As they both dismounted and he approached her, Viera stated:  
“Davlin, my family comes from this isle. The village we can see from here is called Elsterberg.”  
“It is beautiful” – he replied warmly.  
“I used to come to the other side of the river with my farther and look this way... on Caldwell's lands.”  
“What happened to him?”  
“Caldwell?”  
“Your father...”  
“Nothing special... He got sick and he died. It was a decade ago... After all, it's what humans do, isn't it?” – she asked coldly.

Coinneach looked at her, but she didn't meet his eyes, still looking ahead. Then, he asked warmly:  
“Are you always so sarcastic?”  
“Yes” – she replied in a blank voice, so he looked at her again, even more pointedly, before he inquired:  
“Hmm... and your mother?”  
“She still lives on our isle with her new partner. I visited her just before I came to Rastburg... I believed, that it'd be nice to visit my brother but now I know that I should have stayed on Davlin...”  
“Do you regret?”  
“I've never regretted a thing in my life. You tell me: should I start now?” – she asked and this time met his eyes, looking at him with a challenge in hers.  
“No, you shouldn't” – he answered warmly.

Viera wanted to make yet another sarcastic comment, but something in his eyes stopped her. So, instead, she asked:  
“And your parents?”  
“They live in the Blue Mountains. Separately, but the last time I've seen them, they were as happy as they could be, I guess. Now, I suspect, that they'll move to Dol Blathanna, at least my father. My mother... she always loved the Mountains, she may choose to stay.”  
“So they weren't the reason... Why did you start to fight, then?”

He looked at her strangely for a time, even closed his eyes for a moment, before he answered:  
“To have a choice. To be able to choose my future.”  
“Funny” – she replied darkly and started to walk away.

But he stopped her. Coinneach grabbed her arm gently, not forcefully, urging her to meet his eyes again. She turned slowly towards him and he still had his hand on her arm, as he asked:  
“Do you believe in destiny, Viera?”  
“I... don't know” – she replied honestly.  
“How many times have our paths crossed? In the Armush Mountains... it was the first, but hardly the last time. I was in Aedirn soon after you left, I've met Saraid there – the same woman whose life you had saved even if you didn't need to. Then... you were in Dillingen, weren't you? I didn't just imagine the jasmine fragrance... You had been in that cursed warehouse before we were... led there” – he stated, looking at her with fascination, but she hesitated:  
“It's just a coincidence...”  
“Is it? How many times have you been holding my fate in your hands?”  
“Twice. At the beginning and at the end of the war.”  
“And then, four days ago, I just happened to save your family? Do you really believe, that it's nothing more than a coincidence?”

If someone asked her later, what happened after that conversation, she wouldn't be able to explain it or even describe it. She wouldn't be even able to say, whether it was her who moved towards him, tilting her head up to him. Or him who moved towards her, leaning slightly down. In some odd, inexplicable way... they found each other as if their bodies always knew the way. As if they walked the path, which was laid down just for them a long time before that day. The moment his lips touched hers... she melted for a second as if he was the water and she was the earth. But this strange, surreal feeling lasted only for a second. Soon, she was fully aware and sober, but she didn't break that kiss. It was a good kiss, sure, but even more: it was exactly what she planned, what she wanted him to do.  
He... Viera soon realised that he was fascinated with her and in many ways. He probably believed that it was destiny, what brought them together. But he also desired her... from that moment... or maybe for a long time? It was probably irrelevant, still... the way his hands were tracing her back: gently but firmly, almost hungrily... If she would say later that her heart didn't start to beat much faster and her blood pressure didn't increase meaningfully, she would most certainly lie. Also... if she would later say that she didn't recognise this gentle, almost mysterious feeling, starting somewhere in her most sensitive spot and travelling though her spine up to her mind and back again... This feeling which made her lean in to him even more and arc her back slightly... she would lie, as well. But she didn't intend to lie. His touch woke up the same desire in her. The desire which – as always when she was so aroused – for a second transformed all of her thoughts into one.

_I want to feel you inside me._

That thought was beyond her comprehension every time it came to her mind... It wasn't the most pleasurable part... she didn't need him inside her to reach her climax... Whether he would be inside her on not was truly irrelevant for her pleasure and really? It was quicker if he wouldn't... but... As her thoughts became much more coherent again, after the initial mess, she decided that it was probably some primal instinct having something to do with reproduction... If she was thinking about that... she would need him inside her for sure. But, as she was effectively protected – what she checked out countless times in the past – it wasn't the case. Still... that thought, not the most rational of her thoughts, fascinated her every single time.

_The mystery of desire... that's something worth pondering about._


	24. Coinneach Velen 1268

COINNEACH

Velen 1268  
Rastburg  
Lyria and Rivia

They came back to the palace around noon. Then, they joined the rest by lunch. Afterwards, he went back to the maze – the same maze he was walking in yesterday. But, soon he understood that he wasn't alone as he heard a voice calling his name:  
“Neach!” – he turned to his friend and asked:  
“Lóegairen, what are you doing here?”  
“Checking on you, obviously.”  
“I'm fine.”  
“I can see” – Lóegairen stated doubtfully. – “Is it about... how should we call her? The Woman Surprise? That sounds...” – he chuckled and paused, what gave him the chance to cut in:  
“Wrong.”  
“Ridiculous... But that, too. Were you riding with her this morning?”  
“Yes.”  
“Hmm... monosyllabic answers... You know, fraere, you are not the most talkative man I know, sure, but... you're hardly the silent type, either. What has happened?” – his friend inquired, but he only replied with resignation:  
“I don't really know.”  
“Oh...” – Lóegairen chuckled. – “Did she... drug you? Put a spell on you?”  
“No. Don't mock me” – Neach looked at him disapprovingly, but the other Seidhe still replied:  
“She's just a girl, fraere. We'll leave soon and all of this will be forgotten.”  
“Will it? The more I think about it the more I believe, that it won't. Our paths have been crossing almost for a decade, really. Many, many of our choices were like... two sides of the same coin. They almost led to one another. I think... that even if I left, I would still meet her again.”

Lóegairen looked at him questioningly for a second but then stated:  
“Destiny... all right, I get it. So what now?”  
“You know, I... accepted it. I accepted that I cannot fight it. But she... she believes that her choice was taken away from her – what, actually, is the truth – and she feels trapped. And the moment she wants to fight it... everything starts to feel wrong” – Neach answered pensively.  
“Like what?”  
“I want her, Lóegairen. I do desire her, but I know that she isn't sure, what she wants. It feels like I was... I don't know... forcing her to feel the same.”  
“My dear fraere... I know, that you are used to women just undressing for you the moment they find themselves alone with you... After all, you managed to survive the war still looking like a statue of Aen Seidhe of old... But... for the rest of us... it requires a bit more... You know? Seducing her is not the same as forcing her to do anything... It's just part of the game.”  
“Maybe if it was just a game, fraere, I would agree with you. Contrary to your beliefs... it doesn't always work for me that way, either...” – he chuckled for a moment but then finished seriously: – “But... in this case, destiny is at play, too. Destiny, which we don't understand, neither of us.”  
“So, how willing she needs to be for you to have her and to start to think more rationally again? If she... let's say: undresses for you, will you take her and move on?” – Lóegairen asked a bit mockingly, but Neach answered resignedly:  
“I wouldn't be able to stop myself... but then, when I start to think rationally again, as you put it, I would regret.”  
“Well... I prefer your regretting mood than this... whatever it is, fraere. You're too old for this.”  
“Charming as always...” – Coinneach stated disapprovingly, but his friend replied with a smirk:  
“You know, what I mean. We wanted to go to Dol Blathanna to live in peace and quiet... This drama... is very far from it.”  
“Do you think, that I can simply get rid of her? That it is or has been my choice?”  
“No, sorry: it came out the wrong way. What I wanted to say, is that you both need to make up your minds and soon. And that it's not meant to be permanent... Sooner or later... whatever will or won't happen between the two of you... She's not a Seidhe, Neach. She's an inh'eid in the second generation... You'll still have a life after she's gone. The sooner she is gone, the better it would be. You know it, I know it... It's just how it is” – Lóegairen stated matter-of-factly and Neach froze for a while.

_I would say exactly the same not so long ago. I know, that he is right, but... there's always a 'but' in this case._

So Neach took a deep breath and replied quietly:  
“You're not helping, fraere. If I could explain in how many ways your words feel like daggers, I would probably understand much more. Although I can't... they still do.”  
“Is this your romantic nature talking now? Or...” – the other commander trailed off and he asked sharply:  
“Or what?”  
“I don't know... destiny. All the talk about destiny... Some real force beyond our understanding?”  
“Does it matter?”  
“Well... probably not. Still, I believe, that my way is a good way to start.”  
“And that way is?”  
“Find her, fuck her, think later... with a clear mind” – now they both chuckled.

Later, Neach didn't look for her, he even tried to avoid her, but it changed nothing – they still met at the dinner. This time it wasn't such a feast, as the last night, but still, they've all eaten together. This time, he decided to leave earlier and to go to his room. Just as his hand was on the handle of the door to his room, he heard Viera's voice:  
“Coinneach?”

He turned around slowly, contemplating what to say, but she was faster:  
“I've heard, that you intend to leave tomorrow.”  
“Yes. We were on our way home and we want to get there as soon as possible” – he replied and she asked, cocking her head:  
“Is it your last night here, then?”  
“Indeed.”  
“So what are we going to do with... the promise?”  
“I have no clue.”  
“Maybe...” – she made a few steps towards him and stood in his reach, as she finished: – “We can figure it out together?”

He closed his eyes and decided to come up with polite, nice and gentle refusal, but... she was much, much more determined, than he was. The reply which he was pondering on disappeared completely, as her lips captured his and her hand moved over his to open the door. Then... yes... Then he stopped thinking altogether.  
Indeed, she removed her shoes and dress the second he closed the door. Was it the indication, that she was willing? Stupid question... She was. But was it real? Well... he didn't think about it just then. He would think about it... after. But, just then, he was behind her, kissing her neck and spine, while his hands took off her brasserie, her stocking and her pants. His fingers and eyes quickly found many scars... The long one on her left side. The small one on her stomach. Very dangerously looking one on her back, few scratches on her shoulders and the one on her tight, which took his breath away. He knew this shape of a scar... he had seen many wounds done by those blades: Aen Seidhe blades from the Blue Mountains. As he froze, she turned around, now completely naked, and looked him in the eyes. They were standing for a long while in silence, facing each other, before she said:  
“The man, who did it, probably survived, if that's what you're thinking about. I didn't kill him, however, he came very close to killing me. But, he left with few scars from me, I won't deny it.”  
“You... you could have died” – he replied in a whisper.  
“Oh, yes. That was his plan, I presume. But... it's not what I came here for. You know, as well as I do, that this conversation leads nowhere. The circle must end. Hopefully, has ended.”

Coinneach was frozen for a while longer, but she has been already reaching for his jacket, shirt and the rest of his clothing, so he stopped thinking again. Their whole interaction looked like this: like some sort of dream, laced by more lucid moments when one of them froze. In some strange way this night, to this bed, they carried all of the baggage of the history of their races... It felt like they longed to be together, to be one almost desperately... but were stopped from time to time, here and there.  
As he was tracing Viera's body with his lips, he even thought, that her body itself could be a metaphor of it.

_Ups and downs... like her feet – the very beginning, which didn't herald the incoming doom. Then her calf... the time of distrust and first aggressive encounters... then knees, the greatest and the most beautiful love stories... followed shortly by her tights... the time of contempt... But it's not the end, is it?_

He lingered for a long time between her tights, listening to her soft moans, smelling jasmine and this scent... Woman's scent, the one which drove him crazy with desire every single time. Bittersweet, full of promises... those fulfilled and those which would never be fulfilled. The scent of temporary pleasure and of dying hope.  
Her skin was already sweaty but still cold to the touch. As he moved up, he saw some of her veins, now pumping her blood under high pressure, judging by her elevated heartbeat and torn breath. The blood, which seemed to be blue through her skin, but was red, like his, like all of theirs... The blood which was basically the same. Unlike her ears. Just before he entered her, he bite gently on her earlobe – freezing again, as he looked at the ear's rounded edge.  
Again, it was her who brought him back to reality from this state. She sucked on his neck, bite him much harder and pushed her heels, urging him to enter. He looked at her face, meeting her eyes, as – at last – they were one. He waited for her for a second, but she was far too aroused to need more, so she quickly encircled his waist with her legs and started to move with him. They found the rhythm effortlessly – moving slowly, almost lazily. He was way past the time when he wanted to rush anything. She, like any woman, needed the time and stimulation to cum. In the back of his mind, he was also afraid to leave her warmth. He was afraid of the silence, that will follow her moans which were getting louder and shorter gradually. She, probably, wanted to feel more, experience some more, so she pushed him gently from her with a playful smile and turned to her side with her back to him.  
He slid inside her again in this angle as his hand moved to her clitoris. In this position, she was close to her edge sooner than expected. As her walls begun to clench around him, he accelerated his movements. She came hard, arched her back, changing the angle again, this time bringing him to the end quite soon. But he moved inside through at least another minute of her climax, maybe even longer than a minute... Time during sex always seemed to flow quite differently than normally: seconds could turn into minutes and minutes into seconds without clear rules.  
As their bodies relaxed, he didn't dare to move. He clung to her closely and felt her fingers still entangled in his almost painfully. He knew that the moment he leaves her, he would regret this night. She... she seemed to feel exactly the same, so they disentangled just before they fell asleep.


	25. Filavandrel Velen 1268

Witcher book series related characters, places and themes belong to Andrzej Sapkowski. The Witcher games related characters, places and themes belong to CD Projekt Red. Characters, places and themes related to other works, especially by J.R.R. Tolkien and George R.R. Martin, belong to their authors or legal successors.

THE LYRIAN TALES

PART II

THE ALTERNATIVE

FILAVANDREL

Velen 1268  
Dol Blathanna

_Tremble, at the Destroyer of Nations. Who will trample your land and divide it with the noose. Your cities will be destroyed and their inhabitants deprived. The bat, the owl and the story will inhabit your homes, make them into the serpents nest._

~Aen Ithlnnespeath by Andrzej Sapkowski


	26. Coinneach Velen 1268

COINNEACH

Velen 1268  
Rastburg  
Lyria and Rivia

To Coinneach's uttermost surprise, what woke him up on that autumn morning was a soft, female hand, moving slowly down his chest. Then, he felt a kiss on his neck and heard a soft whisper, as her breath tickled very pleasantly his skin:  
“Are you awake?”

He didn't expect her to stay. He didn't expect to wake up with her, so as he opened his eyes and looked to his right to find two blue orbs looking at him with a wide, playful smile... he needed to take a few deep breaths. The sun was rising slowly and the room was bathed in the golden-orange colour, nicely complementing the brown colours of furniture and illuminating her face.  
As he was waking up and comprehending everything around him, Viera's face fell a little, but he stated quickly, as he moved to lay on the top her:  
“I didn't expect you to stay.”  
“Oh... Should I...?” – she started with uncertainty this time, but he replied with a smirk:  
“Stay just where you are.”

If yesterday she was reacting to his touch easily, today... today she was melting. The way she moved, she trembled and moaned...

_Gods... I almost want to stay in this bed forever._

This time she was on the top, moving hungrily and a bit faster than yesterday, kissing him passionately. But exactly like the last time – she stayed with him for a long time afterwards, just resting on him with her face cuddled in the small of his neck. After a few minutes, she whispered again:  
“I don't want to leave you.”  
“What?” – he asked quietly. Viera moved to look him in the eyes, as she explained:  
“I... I want to go with you. I... don't know why all of this has happened to us, but it just feels... It's stupid” – she trailed off and chuckled a bit nervously.

He was watching her for a time, again, before he sat up to her and replied:  
“I... I know what you mean. Here I was, thinking that I'm much too old for this...”  
“You're not old, Coinneach... Taking into consideration your life expectancy... proportionally... we are the same age. And I certainly don't consider myself old... please don't change that” – she finished with a little bit of irony in her voice.  
“All right” – he chuckled. – “I won't. Are you sure that you want to leave Lyria? I... It's your home.”  
“I've spent most of my life in Lyria and I hope, that you won't lock me somewhere up... So I can always come back. We can come back... if you'd like to.”  
“You're the most adorable person in the world sometimes, did you know it?” – he asked quietly, but Viera raised her eyebrows with a smirk on her lips and inquired:  
“Only sometimes?”

_That's exactly what I'm talking about._

He smiled warmly and replied:  
“No, you're right. Even your sarcasm... although it can get dark sometimes... it's just a part of you.”  
“Now, you're too sweet for your age, my dear” – she stated with said sarcasm in her voice and they both laughed heartedly.

They got downstairs much later than yesterday and just in time for the official breakfast. As they walked through the door to the dining room together, he caught at once a little bit worried glances which Sebastian was giving them. Meve seemed to be totally oblivious as were his friends. Coinneach and Viera didn't seat together, but both went back to the places they were occupying previously.

After the meal, Viera disappeared quickly with her brother and Coinneach suspected, what they would talk about. Sebastian proved him to be right an hour later, as he found him by the table in the gardens and said:  
“Coinneach... well... I suspected, that it may happen. Although, for a moment I thought... Either way, I get it. Just...”  
“I'll take care of her, Sebastian. She's safe with me and we'll come back. Dol Blathanna is only a two weeks ride from here” – he reassured him.  
“Well... I know. And I don't intend to stop her from doing what she wants to do. It's quite impossible, either way. But you're about to learn that, as well.”

When he left Sebastian and because Viera was still packing, he decided to go to the enchanting maze again. The trees and bushes there looked like they were ancient and were to stand here for many human generations to come. He tried to take another path this time but whatever he did, all paths seemed to lead him to the centre of the maze.  
In the centre stood a small fountain in the shape of a chalice. It was simple and elegant, with marvellous ornaments and charming sound of splashing water. He was standing there for a while, observing the water falling inevitably down to the lower level of the fountain. But it was the time to go, so he walked back to the palace and to the stables.  
There he found his men, busy with preparing horses for a few weeks ride. Obviously, Lóegairen was soon in front of him, saying:  
“So, she's coming with us.”  
“Yes” – Coinneach replied.  
“Well... have you considered, what are you going to tell Enid? Or Filavandrel?”  
“I'm not a child, fraere.”  
“No, you're not. But this may be more... of a political matter, than just a private one.”  
“What I'm doing in my bedroom is a private matter.”  
“As long as you're doing it with Seidhe...” – Lóegairen took a deep breath before he continued: – “This, on the other hand, is much more complicated. She's... an inh'eid and a Lyrian.”  
“I doubt anyone would care” – Coinneach stated calmly. – “She's just one woman, after all, and I'm not marrying her.”  
“Thankfully, but still. I'm just saying... they won't be happy.”  
“I hardly care any more. And it has nothing to do with Viera, but everything to do with their own choices.”

Both men were looking at each other for a while. Others pretended to be busy with packing, but he felt their glances on him. In the end, he headed to his horse and decided to leave the matter.  
As they were riding out of Rastburg's lands an hour later, he still looked back at the palace once more and another inexplicable feeling started to haunt him. The feeling, which indicated that he was looking at it for the last time.

_Lammas 1267_  
_near Brokilon_

_The air was heavy from the coming storm. It was close to the equinox and storms were getting stronger and more frequent every day. His commando was preparing to meet the army when Milva surprised them. Now, as he was watching her leave, when she was riding South, for a moment his throat clenched with worry._

_This storm is coming for all of us. I believe... that we won't see her again._

_Toruviel stood beside him soon and stated:_  
_“She said the truth... She risked a lot for us.”_  
_“I know. Milva... We owe her a lot” – he replied quietly._  
_“Yes. Who would say it a few years ago? This dh'oine girl proved to be an exception.”_  
_“Not only her.”_  
_“Yes... But we need to forget it for now. Now, we are going to open the gates of hell for them all and we can't hesitate, Neach.”_  
_“What are you implying?”_  
_“You know what.”_  
_“There is a difference, Toruviel. Battlefield is battlefield.”_  
_“Indeed.”_  
_“You'll have your war, Toru.”_  
_“Didn't you want it, as well?”_

_Coinneach was silent for a long time before he answered:_  
_“Yes.”_  
_“It's getting easier and easier “– she said in a strange voice._  
_“Exactly. It shouldn't.”_  
_“Does it really matter any more?”_  
_“No, I believe it doesn't.”_

_Toruviel left him again and Coinneach spent another half an hour just staring South._

This time he had a very similar feeling. Like some strange doom was in the air. But he didn't linger on this feeling for too long this time. He believed that for once he was wrong. There was peace and it didn't look like it was going to change.


	27. Viera Velen 1268

VIERA

Velen 1268  
Rastburg  
Lyria and Rivia

When Viera was packed and ready to leave, she went to the empty ballroom and looked through its window for a long time. She would miss Lyria for sure, but... well... there were more important things, like knowledge.  
Everyone knew, that it was knowledge, which was really her speciality. She was a good warrior and commander, she wouldn't say otherwise, but it was all because of her knowledge. She knew where and how to attack to kill, even though she was smaller and in many cases weaker than her opponents. She had friends and informants, contacts in special forces of other kingdoms, so she knew where and how to lead her men. She also knew a lot about history, people, places and a great many other things. Yes... knowledge was her speciality and she liked to have a full picture, before she made any decision or before she recommended anything to her Queen. In the light of all of the advantages of this trip... being a little bit home-sick was a very small price.  
Obviously, she also knew that it won't be a fairy-tale. The Aen Seidhe travelling with Coinneach may have accepted the higher power and destiny's intervention, which led to their meeting, but Aen Seidhe from Dol Blathanna weren't there, as it happened. They would have questions and wouldn't be happy with answers, whatever they may be. She was fully aware that she would be a rather unwelcome guest. And that... that wasn't a good start of anything.  
As Viera was pondering, she heard male footsteps behind her and soon she felt strong arms encircling her waist, as Coinneach stated:  
“We'll come back. Maybe in the summer?”  
“Neach... You've missed Dol Blathanna for years, you deserve to spend some time there. Don't worry about me.”  
“I don't. If you miss Lyria, you'll come back with me or without, whether I'll like it or not. I'm not a fool, Viera.”  
“Hmm... I've never said otherwise. “  
“Just so you know.”  
“All right. I get it. Oh... I'm not a morning person, but today it's not even noon and I'm already packed and I hate packing.”  
“Really?” – he asked ironically and both chuckled. – “I, on the other hand, like mornings here.”  
“You do?”  
“Yes. But I probably prefer evenings... especially those unexpected.”  
“If so, just make sure, that you'll never take it for granted.”  
“I wouldn't even dare” – he whispered warmly and asked: – “Are you ready?”  
“Yes. I'll just bid my farewell to my family. Would you wait for me in the stables?”  
“Yes.”

Then, he just kissed her head softly and left. This man... well... this man strangely knew when to be around her and when to leave. He also knew when to speak and when to be silent. In the matter of fact... he hasn't done a single irritating thing that day and it was still morning – Viera's sense of irritation was very high. Everyone else has already managed to irritate her at least once... but not him. And this... this was something dangerously new.

She went upstairs to the general room to find there Meve who was reading one of the reports they've received yesterday. Viera sat down in the chair next to her and asked:  
“What is happening on our Southern border?”  
“It's fine, for now. We both know, that it may change any given moment. We need to keep a watchful eye on the Yaruga” – the Queen replied.  
“We are better prepared than ever. Emhyr var Emreis won't catch us by surprise again and I'm sure, that Temerians will do everything they can to have an eye on anything happening near Sodden. Foltest wanted this piece of the victory cake too hard.”  
“I do hope, that you're right.”  
“What will you tell Reynard?” – Viera changed the subject and Meve answered hesitantly:  
“Well... he won't be happy. He wanted to make you responsible for the security of the Southern border. He trusts you and he trusts your instincts.”  
“This is more important.”  
“I agree. And I know that we won't stumble upon another chance to do it.”  
“Exactly” – she paused for a second before she asked: – “Meve?”  
“Yes?”  
“What are you planning to do now?”  
“I'm going back to Rivia. After all the years of being a terrible mother, now it's the time for me to tell my son, that I appreciate his work. That I'm proud. Prouder, than expected.”  
“Don't tell him the last one.”  
“Oh...” – the Queen hesitated before she huffed and continued: – “You see? I'm a terrible mother.”  
“Not terrible, Meve. Just... children aren't always what parents want them to be. You're having a hard time adjusting to it...” – Viera replied quietly.  
“But your mother adores you!”  
“Obviously she does. First of all, she is a very warm and loving person. Secondly, she always wanted to have children and to love them. But... there are things, which she would like me to do differently. It's always the case. She is just more compassionate than you are, but... how could you be? Your mother...” – the major trailed off, but Meve continued for her in a cold, strong voice:  
“Was murdered on my father's order. Indeed... My family is toxic, but I... I never wanted Vilem to...” – the Queen hesitated once more, but Viera said reassuringly:  
“It's not too late. You managed to patch things up even during the war, in such dramatic times and circumstances... You'll find a way again.”

They remained silent for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Still, Meve said after a while:  
“Promise me, that the moment you start to wonder, whether you are safe there, you'll come back. Don't risk too much, Viera.”  
“I promise” – she replied.  
“And... be careful. Share you'll information with me only personally, as you come back home. Unless...” – she paused, but the major finished for her:  
“Unless in the uttermost need. I know. Don't worry, Meve. It'll work out. I'll make sure it will. Is that...?” – she asked, looking at the vial which was lying on the table close to Meve.  
“Yes, it's from Keira Metz” – the Queen answered. – “She said, that one drop is enough.”  
“OK.”

After that conversation, Viera took the vial and hid it in her pocket. Then, she bid her farewell and left the room. Later, she found her family and said her goodbyes. Sebastian still looked remorseful when she left them all and headed to the stables.  
As Viera walked through their gardens, she almost counted her steps away from home and towards... Well: towards probably the hardest task in her life. Surly towards the most complicated one with many consequences which were impossible to foresee now. And with many choices, which she knew she would need to make.


	28. Coinneach Velen 1268

COINNEACH

Velen 1268  
Dravograd  
Lyria and Rivia

On the road, they've slept in tents. In Lyria, they've travelled in the open and by the main roads, but they decided not to do the same in Aedirn, so they headed east to the Blue Mountains. At first, he was seriously surprised, that Viera was so quickly accepted by his men. But then... he realised that she was a soldier, too. A major and she has spent a decade in the army, much like them. They've shared a lot, truly.  
On their way, the Lyrian mostly spoke about her kingdom and its people, and they all admitted, that there was something in the way in which she was speaking about them... what made it hard not to like them. Although, they were mostly dh'oine. She had a gift for story-telling, without a doubt.  
As they made the last stop before the Dravograd, she led them all into the vast forest to the marvellous, enchanting meadow, cut in half by a small river. As tents were ready and the fire was burning, it was Saraid, who asked:  
“Viera, did you take us here for a reason?”  
“Indeed. The river is called the Kiss, A'baeth in Hen Llinge. Its spring is quite a new one, no older than fifty-years and Lyrians have a story about its creation” – the Lyrian major replied with a smile.  
“Let's hear it.”  
“As you know, the first rule of magic is that it demands sacrifice... You must give something up to use the Chaos. People, who live in Dravograd say, that the river appeared in one night. In the evening it wasn't there, but as the first hunters ventured to the forest in the morning... it was already in the middle of the meadow... The water came out of nowhere.”  
“And how is that possible?” – Saraid asked suspiciously and Viera continued the tale:  
“Well, soon after the discovery, a tale started to be told. A very strange tale, indeed. Fifty years ago in Dravograd lived a girl: young, beautiful, human girl. She lived with her parents and it is rumoured, that her father was a merchant. She had a good childhood and a happy youth, everything seemed to be perfect in her life. Then... she fell in love. But, as in most of the love stories without a happy ending, it was a forbidden love. She not only fall in love with a woman but also a woman whom she wasn't allowed to love.”  
“Aen Seidhe” – Saraid stated slowly and Viera continued sadly:  
“Lyrians never say it at loud, but... yes, I think so. At the same time, she started to show the aptitude for magic: plants were growing fast at her touch and animals were listening to her every command. But, she didn't care about magic. She was sneaking to the forest with her lover in the night when everyone was asleep and for some time her life was like a dream. But then, one day her father gave her the letter from her lover. The letter in which she read, that her lover left her for a man. The girl... was broken-hearted for some time, until Tissaia de Vries, the rectress of Aretuza, came for her and invited her to join the academy. The girl agreed eagerly, hoping to forget her lover and leave the memory of her behind. In Aretuza it turned out, that the girl was an oneiromancer – the ability highly sought for by sorceresses, because it is very rare and useful. After a year of training... the girl dreamt, what had truly happened to her lover: the woman died on their meadow, probably poisoned. By her parents? Or sorceresses? The girl probably never learned the truth, but... she fled the academy to come here and weep for her own naivete and for the woman she once loved so dearly... As she wept, she realised that near to her sprung the new spring. The earth helped her to commemorate her mistake – the one which she couldn't undo. The spring is all that's left of her because she has never been seen again.”  
“That's... incredibly depressing story. Come on! Don't you have something more cheerful? We are the experts in sorrowful love stories!” – Saraid exclaimed with false indignation and laughed heartedly. Soon, the rest followed, but Coinneach wondered for a while.

_I've heard a very similar story a long time ago, somewhere... But... I can't remember. After all... all of the stories on our Continent have something in common._

Later, Coinneach found Viera lying on the ground in tall grass and looking at the stars. As he joined her, lying down next to her, he asked:  
“What are you looking for?”  
“I don't know” – she replied pensively, paused for a while, turned to him and continued: – “Once I believed that I know, but... now... Now it's different.”  
“Hmm... I know what you mean.”  
“There are things which I never really considered before... and now I'm starting to. It's strange. Like everything was the same but different at the same time.”  
“Maybe it's true.”  
“Maybe... but it terrifies me” – she whispered and he reassured her:  
“You're not alone, Viera. You're the strangest thing that happened to me, as well.”

She just smiled, leaned in to him and kissed him: gently at first but soon the kiss changed to a seductive, passionate one. As she unfastened his hair and ran her fingers through them, he sighed. He loved this feeling. The feeling of her petite palm and fingers moving gently though his hair like water. But he knew well, that she can do many more things with those very same hands, so he smirked and stated:  
“Let's go to our tent.”  
“Hmm...” – was her only reply, but she allowed him to help her up and entangled her fingers in his as they walked.

For a moment, Coinneach looked down and saw autumn leaves in different colours lying on the ground. He wasn't sure why this view made him sigh heavily. Viera observed him for a while with worry before she asked:  
“What is it?”  
“Winter” – he replied in a blank voice.  
“It's not winter yet.”  
“I know, but it'll come.”  
“It always comes. Are you contemplating the change in seasons?"  
“You can say so, yes.”  
“Is it literal or symbolical contemplation?”  
“Both.”  
“Do you want me to say something, what will surely be a cliché?” – she asked, smirking and he replied also smiling a bit:  
“No, I'm fine.”  
“OK.”

When they reached the dark-green tent, she entered at once, but he glimpsed once more at the trees behind it. Then, he followed her.


	29. Viera Velen 1268

VIERA

Velen 1268  
Dravograd  
Lyria and Rivia

As Viera and Coinneach got to his tent in the evening, he approached her at once and started to slowly remove every piece of her clothing, kissing his way down her body, as he revealed more of her skin. The moment she was naked, he sneaked his hands under her bottom, lifted her up with ease and carried her to the blankets, which were serving them for a bed on the road.  
She wasn't the kind of person who is pondering about her own or – even less – someone else's emotions. It just wasn't her, but now she understood that he and being with him started to feel more and more familiar. It wasn't love, she wasn't foolish and she barely knew him. But definitely some strange intimacy and familiarity started to resurface in her mind every time she was with him. The warmth of his body, his touch and breath tickling her neck became familiar. Close.  
He was making her considerations even harder doing everything right, almost too good to be true. She wasn't sure, whether it was his experience or just something as simple as empathy, but somehow she realised that she didn't even need to suggest what she wanted – he was doing it on his own and seemed to be very pleased with himself, as well. Oh, yes: she liked, that he enjoyed pleasing her. She liked it a lot. Still, it was just one of many things which inevitably made her ponder about their crazy relationship or something.

_Whatever..._

Her internal struggle must have been displayed in her features, because as they were lying closely together, already almost falling asleep, Coinneach asked:  
“What are you thinking about?”  
“Nothing” – she replied automatically.  
“Viera...” – he started a little bit disapprovingly.

Then, she looked him deep in the eyes. She has already learned, that he didn't like her distance. The distance which she knew was so typical for her, but not necessarily a part of her, so she was trying. She was trying hard to be more, to say more:  
“Well, all right: I'm... it's plainly stupid...” – she huffed and continued: – “ _Nothing_ sounded much better.”  
“Nothing always sounds better – it's cynical. Cynicism sounds good and is easy” – he stated knowingly, what made her reply coldly:  
“Now, this is patronising. You are patronising.”  
“Guilty as charged” – he agreed, chuckled and stated: – “OK, let's leave it.”  
“I... was thinking about us... you... all of it” – she replied either way.  
“Something specific?”  
“Not really. It's just easy to be with you. Too easy.”  
“Too easy?” – he chuckled softly and added: – “Do you want me to... I don't know... Argue with you?”  
“Do you restrain yourself from doing it?”  
“No. I just don't find any reason to but I can do it for argument's sake if you'd like” – he replied chuckling and she joined him before she replied:  
“No, but thank you for the offer.”  
“Think nothing of it.”  
“I intend to, because it was silly.”

Viera didn't even think before moving closer to him and kissing him again just before she laid her head back hoping to fall asleep. She started to analyse her action as she closed her eyes.

_That's exactly what I'm talking about... Too easy._

In the morning, she woke up still comfortably nestled against his body. Coinneach was so warm, so... comfortable, as if...

_Hard to say..._

So, she started to be wary to even think about it. Some completely random meeting, the cursed law of surprise and everything that followed was growing under her skin and Viera absolutely despised the feeling. That's why, though reluctantly, she left him alone on blankets, got up, dressed up and left the tent.  
It was still quite early, as she looked over trees at the rising sun. The sky was now orange, the golden circle was rising slowly and from time to time, it was hiding behind the lower level of long lines of clouds. The sun rays were first shining brightly, then disappearing behind the clouds, which gained a golden aureole, only to shine brightly again. The whole sky was in grey-golden stripes.  
Viera was so occupied with pointless staring at the sky that she hasn't realised for a long time, that someone was standing just behind her. It was after a long time, as she felt, that someone was watching her, so she turned around only to meet quite disapproving gaze. It was, obviously, Saraid. Viera raised her eyebrows a little and stated:  
“You promised to kill me the next time you see me.”  
“I promised many things to many people. I haven't delivered in many cases, but it doesn't mean, that I won't” – the Seidhe replied coldly.  
“Oh... I see. Have I done anything specific or...” – Viera started, but was interrupted:  
“Why did you come with us?”  
“What was I suppose to do?”  
“You don't seem to me as a person, who cares for superstitions or destiny.”  
“I don't.”  
“Why then?”  
“My family does and so does my Queen. I feared, that anything that would happen to us after I stayed home would become my fault” – she answered almost honestly.

Saraid was looking at her pensively for a long time. Viera could almost see how hard her brain was now working before the Seidhe replied:  
“I didn't expect that answer.”  
“Well... I would also say that I'm beginning to like it, but you don't care about my opinions or feelings...” – the Lyrian major trailed off and Saraid confirmed:  
“...in the slightest...”  
“So, I'll restrain myself from voicing them.”

The other woman was silent for a long time before she continued in a strong voice:  
“It's not enough.”  
“Pardon me?” – Viera asked, taken by surprise.  
“It's not enough” – Saraid repeated. – “He's falling for you and you... you treat it as a duty, maybe an experiment... You don't take any of this seriously.”  
“True.”  
“Does he know?”  
“Are you asking me, if I confessed my undying love for him?”– Viera inquired mockingly, what didn't escape Saraid's attention, so the Seidhe answered with irritation:  
“Funny, but no. I'm asking...” – she paused, huffed but continued in a calmer voice: – “Well... at least you're being honest. I expected a lie and I prepared a speech for that occasion.”  
“Ah... then you have plenty of time to prepare a new one. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.”  
“I don't suppose you are.”

The Seidhe left, but Viera was watching her for a long time. She hated this kind of conversations.

_What can a person achieve by them?_

The answer was quite simple: nothing. They're not supposed to achieve anything, but to make a person feel better. But on the other hand, they were making all the rest uncomfortable. The Lyrian stopped watching Saraid only because Coinneach emerged from his tent. And he emerged just in time to see Saraid walking quite angrily away from her and Viera observing her carefully. He must have guessed what had happened, but... he knew her too well to approach, so he just headed to the fire.

_And again he didn't make a stupid mistake. He knew better than to make it, but how? Can he read my mind? No, it's impossible, he's not a Sage. So how? Could he get to know me well enough in a week to actually know what to do? That's impossible, as well. It's like... we were made for each other, but that's such a stupid cliché... It simply doesn't happen. People learn how to be with each other for many years and still make mistakes. How then?_


	30. Viera Velen 1268

VIERA

Velen 1268  
Dravograd  
Lyria and Rivia

Viera's relationship with Saraid was somehow tensed, but at least she could describe it in some way. Her relationship with Toruviel on the other hand... well... this one was really tricky. On the day they camped near Dravograd, Toruviel on her own invited Viera for a hunt. The Lyrian accepted the invitation, so they ventured together into the forest in the West. It was deep in the forest, as Viera just shot a roe deer, when the Seidhe stated:  
“You are a very good archer for a dh'oine.”  
“Thank you, I guess” – Viera replied a little bit hesitantly.  
“But, you're not a dh'oine, are you?” – Toruviel continued suspiciously.  
“Well... I'm used to being called that.”  
“You accept it. Which means, that it is what you think about yourself. But you're an inh'eid.”  
“In the second generation, yes.”  
“Still... you are.”  
“And what of it?” – this time Viera asked harshly.  
“You don't like being called that, do you?” – the Seidhe commander asked slowly and the Lyrian turned back to their prey.

For quite a long time, Viera pretended to be occupied with doing something with the roe deer but she couldn't do it for long. To tell the truth: she didn't like where this conversation was heading. She didn't like thinking about it and she despised being reminded about it. Still... she wanted to be polite, so after taking a deep breath she answered strongly:  
“I'm a Lyrian major and a Davell. Nothing else matters to me.”  
“So... people questioned your loyalty in the past” – Toruviel rather stated than asked.  
“Yes.”  
“During the war?”  
“Aedirnians... Black Rayla.”  
“So... this sick monster managed to piss people off even on her own side... well... Thankfully, she is dead now” – Toruviel ended with satisfaction and Viera replied:  
“Yes. And the next one, White Rayla, is dead, too.”  
“That's interesting. She was chasing after me for a while, just after Brenna.”  
“I know. She gloated about it. She believed that she was close.”  
“Was she?”

Viera looked at the woman pensively.

_Oh, Toruviel... you have no idea. We came just in time to get rid of her, but... you have no idea what could have happened then. Many, many of your men... but it's in the past now._

The Lyrian major only stated:  
“I have no idea.”  
“You're lying” – the Seidhe replied immediately.  
“Does it matter?”  
“How did she die?”  
“In an accident.”  
“Why don't you take credit for it? Our people would like you at once” – Toruviel asked curiously and Viera replied matter-of-factly with the lie she has been telling everyone:  
“I don't take credit, because I had nothing to do with her death. Temerians found her dead in the Yaruga. She simply drowned.”  
“Really?”  
“Of course.”  
“Now, I have no idea whether you are telling the truth or lying” – the Seidhe said and was observing her intently, even shook her head slightly, but Viera only stated:  
“Let's head back to the camp.”

They started to walk, but on their way Toruviel continued:  
“Coinneach believes, that during the war you were trying to do the right thing. Gods know that he was doing just that for most of the time. Is he right?”  
“The right thing? If I knew what it means...” – Viera replied quietly. – “I was trying to choose the lesser evil, but truly I didn't want to choose at all. Does it make sense?”  
“No.”  
“But it's the truth” – the major replied and shrug.

At the edge of the camp, the two women found a raven-haired Seidhe, sitting by the tree. He looked as if he was asleep, leaned on the tree-trunk, but something in his breathing told Viera, that he wasn't. So, she asked Toruviel:  
“Is he all right?”

The Seidhe sighed heavily but answered:  
“No, he's not. He believes...” – she couldn't finish. Viera did it for her:  
“That he lost everything.”  
“Yes. We, Aen Seidhe, we are archers and we are beautiful. This is the simple truth about our race.”  
“Really? What about the long life and wisdom?”  
“They come on the third and the fourth places. Still, he never believed himself to be wise. I think, that it's his mother's fault. She said more than once, that he's a madman.”  
“That's... well...” – Viera hesitated, but Toruviel chuckled and continued:  
“No, don't get me wrong. She loves him, it's more... well... she knows him. And he is a madman. This is why he was so good at it.”  
“Being Scoia'tael?”  
“Yes. He liked the risk, grandiose plans... He got high on it...”  
“And now?”  
“Now he refuses to take a bow in his hand.”

Viera didn't know exactly why, but Iorveth's face was haunting her for the rest of the day. It wasn't his scar or the bandanna. No, she has never cared too much for such things... and she has seen a fair share of scarred, maimed people in her own army. It was something else.  
She hasn't been with Scoia'tael commanders for long, but she realised that every time they were joking or doing anything remotely funny, they all looked at Iorveth and stopped themselves.  
So in the evening, as they were sitting by the fire, she asked Coinneach quietly:  
“Neach?”  
“Yes?”  
“You are worried about Iorveth, aren't you?”  
“Worried?” – he sighed heavily. – “No, I just lost hope. We all did.”  
“Why?”  
“He is the youngest of us. He was always... full of life. Even in the darkest hour, he could crack some sarcastic joke which... put everything into perspective, you know? When we were camping during the war...” – he started, but she cut in:  
“… with Nilfgaardians...”  
“Yes... Either way, he could always find something ironical, something to laugh at. His men... well... they would follow him to the depths of hell and back again, because, in some way – maybe juvenile, but still – he could remind us, that we are alive. That there are things worth fighting for, you know?”

Viera knew. She understood. This was the reason why everyone liked Gascon. This was also the reason, why she – however, she knew that he may betray them – liked him as a person, too. But Gascon was dead and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Iorveth... well... wasn't. At least not yet.


	31. Coinneach Velen 1268

COINNEACH

Velen 1268  
Dravograd  
Lyria and Rivia

He walked slowly through the crowded streets of a small but bustling city. That day many merchants from all over Rivia and Lyria came to Dravograd's market with their ware. Coinneach saw a wide range of materials and metals, but also weapons, food and jewellery on the stalls. He came to the market because he hoped to meet a friend from Rivia, who was helping Scoia'tael with provisions for many years during the war. The commander expected him to show up with skins he was selling, but the man was nowhere to be found.  
In the end, Coinneach approached another Seidhe, who was selling materials and asked:  
“Ceád'mil. Where can I find Ravyen from Rivia? He is selling skins and furs. Do you happen to know?”

The Seidhe looked at him bewildered and stopped breathing. For a long time, the merchant was silent and Coinneach frowned suspiciously, asking in a whisper:  
“What has happened?”

It took the merchant a while, he looked around fearfully but in the end, he stated:  
“He died a few months ago.”  
“How?” – the commander inquired further.  
“There was” – the man started quietly but finished in a low, barely audible whisper: – “A pogrom. There was a pogrom in Rivia.”  
“What?!” – Coinneach asked sharply, trying to keep his voice quiet. – “What are you talking about?”  
“Hush...” – the merchant stopped him and stated: – “Come with me.”

Then the merchant looked nervously at the Seidhe standing by the closest stall and asked him to watch over his wares. Coinneach left the stall with him and they headed together outside the city walls. There, they sat on two stumps in the forest and the man continued:  
“It was at the end of Blathe this year.”  
“Two months ago? But...” – the commander was speechless when he understood the implications of this discovery. Still, he listened to the man, who explained:  
“It started in the market or at least this is what my friends, who survived the attack, claim. They say, that some dh'oine girl started to argue with a dwarf about the price of some piece of jewellery he had for sale. The argument got heated... Then, what looked as if out of the blue, dh'oine armed with whatever they had flooded the streets of Rivia and started to kill every dwarf or Seidhe on their way. It was a massacre. A senseless, brutal attack on innocent and mostly unarmed people. Almost two hundred of our people were killed, half of them women and children.”  
“Where were the authorities? Rivian soldiers, peace-keepers?”  
“They arrived... after an hour and reluctantly. They allowed it to happen.”

Coinneach was speechless once more.

_Two hundred people... Gods... Children... I..._

His mind turned into an incoherent mass of torn thoughts. Not in a good way. In a terrible, helpless and terrifying way.

_A pogrom. Here, now... just after the war, just after the peace... Gods... let it be a nightmare. I beg you._

Coinneach barely heard the other man, who was saying slowly:  
“You didn't know... Well, you should have had.”

Then, the commander looked at the merchant questioningly and the other man asked:  
“Aren't you one of them?”  
“One of whom?” – Coinneach asked with mixed feelings in his voice.  
“Officers of the Vrihedd Brigade, commanders of Scoia'tael” – the merchant explained coldly and asked again: – “Aren't you?”  
“Yes, I am. My name is Coinneach Da Réo. Why is it relevant?”  
“Well... dwarves, as they always do, blame dh'oine, but also you. They say...” – the other man trailed off, but Coinneach knew how he's going to end:  
“… that we shouldn't have fought. Am I wrong?”  
“No.”  
“Funny. Dwarves from cities and Mahakam will never forgive us for two things: the simple fact, that their youth decided to disregard their orders and fight alongside us, and the misjudged attack in Mahakam. They are desperately looking for a way to blame us for everything to have an excuse for doing business with dh'oine. Not to be called what they are: traitors.”  
“I know. Still... you shouldn't show up in Lyria and Rivia” – the merchant stated coldly and Coinneach asked in surprise:  
“Excuse me?”  
“You shouldn't have come here. You're putting the rest of us in danger.”  
“What? I...” – he looked bewildered at the man sitting with a stern expression next to him before he stated: – “I was fighting for freedom and for the right to choose our future. To have a future! For all. Are you saying, that...” – he paused and the merchant cut in sternly:  
“… you may have been fighting for freedom and I believe you. I even believe, that maybe in decades or centuries it might happen. But you, yourself, will never be free. Yes. This is what I'm saying, commander. Go to Dol Blathanna and don't come back. Just don't. You'll do all of us a favour.”

The Seidhe merchant didn't say anything else nor did he wait for the reply. Instead, he bowed his head slightly and left Coinneach, heading back to the city. Neach... well... Neach felt as if he was falling down a deep, bottomless and incredibly dark well.

_Queen Meve and Viera must have known... And they've never said a thing. A pogrom in Rivia, in their kingdom and on their watch! They should have told us... we had the right to know._

He was sitting on the stamp for a long time, pondering whether to confront Viera about it or not.


	32. Coinneach Velen 1268

COINNEACH

Velen 1268  
Dravograd  
Lyria and Rivia

Coming back to their camp, Coinneach tried hard to calm down. He really tried, but the moment he recognised Viera's silhouette, he lost it. He approached her at a fast pace and when she turned around from her horse, which she was just combing, he asked harshly:  
“How could you lie to me about the Rivian pogrom? How?”  
“Neach...” – she tried, but he continued:  
“For a week now you were talking to me, sleeping with me, for fuck's sake! But you said nothing! Nothing! And don't say that you didn't lie, because hiding the truth about something like this is as good as a lie.”  
“I promised. I gave my word to my Queen, Neach. Before you came to Rastburg. She wanted to keep it a secret as long as possible. Forgive me” – she finished remorsefully.

She was good at it, Coinneach realised immediately. After this confession, there was nothing he could say. He would do the same, he was sure of that. She was sorry, what was all that she could do. He knew, that what had happened in Rivia was also beyond her and that she had nothing to do with it personally. So he said the only thing he could:  
“No one tried to stop it. People, your people, allowed it to happen.”  
“It's not entirely true, Neach. Someone did try to stop it and... died for it” – she replied calmly, so he asked at once:  
“What do you mean?”  
“Geralt of Rivia, the witcher. He stood alone against the mob, trying to save as many as he could. Then, he was joined by two sorceresses: Triss Merigold and Yennefer of Vengerberg. Yennefer died, as well. But you are right as to one thing: Rivians reacted too late. If you want to ask me: why? I'm wondering about it myself. I don't know, but I can't rule out the possibility, that it was a blind blood-thirst or some sick need for revenge. I don't know.”

Viera closed her eyes and lowered her head. Coinneach knew, that her apology was sincere, but...  
“It's not enough” – he said heavily.  
“I know. I'm still sorry” – she replied quietly.  
“I know.”  
“What do you want me to do?”  
“Nothing.”  
“I can sleep in another...”  
“No. Sleep with me, but...”  
“All right. I get it” – she replied with sadness and started to walk away, but he stopped her:  
“Viera?”

She turned around quickly and looked at him questioningly. Coinneach took a deep breath and asked:  
“Is there anything else I should know?”  
“Neach...” – she whispered heavily.  
“Just tell me if there is something else. I want to...” – he trailed off, but she inquired:  
“What do you want, Neach?”

He was silent for a while, pondering, but in the end, he answered:  
“I want to trust you.”

Viera smiled sadly and replied quietly:  
“There are things, Neach. Things which I won't be able to tell you as well as you won't be able to tell me. It's not a fairy-tale. And... I know that I'm asking a lot but... I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about Rivia... Just don't volunteer this information” – she paused. – “I'll give you some space” – she finished and walked away, leaving him alone.

Coinneach couldn't find himself a place or anything to do to distract him from his own thoughts. After an hour of this futile internal struggle, he took his horse and started to ride ahead to the East. At dusk, he dismounted his horse and sat down on the grass. He found himself on the meadow near seemingly limitless fields.

_So human... This landscape is so human... so strange and different for me. I doubt if there is anything, that could change this feeling. But Viera... she doesn't feel that way._

He sighed. Then, he laid down on the carpet of grass and observed absent-mindedly as clouds were moving on the sky. It was a beautiful, early autumn day and only scarce, white clouds were on the sky. But for them, there was still the sun hiding slowly in the West in red-orange colours, which soon turned into purple. But Coinneach had no idea what to do next.


	33. Viera Velen 1268

VIERA

Velen 1268  
Dravograd  
Lyria and Rivia

Early in the morning, Viera left the tent she shared with Coinneach with a wide, stupid smile on her face. As soon as she realised that, she decided to get her face under control and shook her head.

_Gods... I'm losing it, am I not? But it was a really good..._

“You look pleased, dh'oine” – a cold, mocking voice immediately changed her mood to the mix of irritation and fear.

_Iorveth. Hmm... in his state of mind, who knows what he would do?_

Viera looked at him with a frown. The youngest Scoia'tael commander stood at the line of the trees, leaning on one of them. On his face, there was an emotion hard to mistake for anything else: contempt. The contempt so strong and obvious, that she started to seriously consider heading back to Coinneach's tent – the man wouldn't kill her there... would he?  
However, that thought disappeared quite quickly. She was a warrior and running to a man for rescue was hardly her thing. In the past... well... she doubted, that this thought had ever before even crossed her mind.

_It's... distressing..._

But she abandoned this thought, as well, and decided to take care of the matter at hand. So, she smiled mockingly, turned around and walked back to Coinneach's tent only to grab her long-bow and quiver. Then, she emerged from the tent again and walked slowly in Iorveth's direction, saying calmly:  
“Follow me.”  
“I don't think so” – he replied in a voice cold as ice.  
“Don't you want to know what I intend to show you? Aren't you at all curious?” – she asked in a taunting voice, but he answered:  
“As long as you're not asking me to kill you, I don't care.”  
“Then, come deeper into the forest.”

She finished her sentence and noticed a deep frown on Iorveth's face, followed quickly by confusion. But Viera didn't wait for him long and walked ahead. She heard his footsteps behind her soon and as she emerged at the clearing about fifteen minutes later, he asked:  
“What the fuck are you doing?”

But she didn't answer, only handed him – forcefully – her long-bow and quiver, and started to walk away not even sparing him a glance. A dozen meters later, Viera stated still with her back to him:  
“Go on, shoot me.”  
“What?” – he asked slowly.  
“I said: shoot me. You'll get rid of everyone's problem. Then, you'll tell the rest, that I was attacked by bandits, but you came here too late. No one will ever blame you for anything. Just... shoot me” – she finished stoically and shrug.

After she finished speaking, she heard Iorveth's movement and barely heard the sound of a pulled string. Iorveth was going to shoot her, indeed. She didn't move or breath when she heard the distinctive sound of an arrow rushing through the air, but it wasn't even close to her. Still, the fear paralysed her, obviously, although it was her idea. For a moment she even had this feeling, as if she was to fall down to her knees but she kept her balance. As she started to breathe almost normally again, she asked in a mocking, vicious voice:  
“Did you miss? Is it the eye?”  
“How dare you?!” – he growled with anger.  
“Well... you missed. I was just curious why.”  
“I won't make this mistake again” – he threatened and shot once more, but this time the arrow missed by far, too.  
“Oh, come on, Iorveth. Are your hands shaking? I know that you can shoot me, even with only one eye” – she chuckled tauntingly. – “We both know, that you shoot with your heart, not eyes. Go on, shoot me now without wasting time and arrows.”

This time he took his time. This time... the arrow missed by no more than an inch and flew by her ear, almost cutting its edge. The rush of adrenaline and fear almost caused her to panic and run away, but Viera stopped herself. She just stood there motionless, waiting for the next, probably accurate, arrow to actually at least harm her. The next arrow passed the top of her head by an inch, rubbing her hair. The last arrow flew just next to her other ear, this time indeed the darts even dabbed her skin and probably left a small cut. Then, she heard a movement and the sound of a long-bow falling to the ground, but she didn't turn around. She just walked ahead, encircled the clearing and headed back to the camp.

Iorveth didn't come back for a long time. After an hour, as more and more of the Aen Seidhe got up and joined her by the breakfast, Toruviel started to be worried:  
“Has anyone seen Iorveth?”

Most shook their heads, but Viera replied calmly:  
“He decided to go hunting.”  
“Hunting? But he broke his bow a long time ago and refused to get a new one...” – Toruviel replied pensively, but the Lyrian major said:  
“I lent him mine.”  
“What? Did he ask... you...?” – the Seidhe trailed off in shock.  
“It was a bit more complicated, but he took it.”  
“And where is he now?”  
“I'm not sure.”

Toruviel left and ventured into the forest. She came back with Iorveth maybe an hour later and both had wide, satisfied smiles on their lips. It turned out, that he could shoot with one eye without a problem. And not only shoot.  
It was in the evening, as Viera was sitting with a cup of wine and waiting for Coinneach, when Iorveth sat next to her and stated:  
“You're crazy.”  
“I know” – she replied and smirked, looking him in the eye.  
“I could have shot you.”  
“You could... why didn't you?”  
“I'm not sure. You are Meve's favourite, aren't you? I guess I didn't want to make trouble for Enid. It wouldn't be so easy to explain how you died...”  
“Obviously.”  
“And... well...” – he sighed and looked into the fire, before he continued: – “I've never met Duny... but... it was... I don't know... For a moment it felt like we had a purpose, a hope. We both know how it ended. I don't know if this time it would be different... but I don't want to be the reason for failure.”

Viera held her breath.

_Duny? What is he talking about? Who is he? The end of his statement sounded like he was talking about the Emperor of Nilfgaard, but his name is Emhyr. Gods... What does it mean? I've heard that name before, but where?_

But, she didn't let Iorveth know, that she found this piece of information particularly interesting, so she simply smiled and stated:  
“Well, it's surely different. I don't know if it's better.”  
“But you do trust her, don't you?” – he asked curiously.  
“Meve?”  
“Yes.”  
“I do.”  
“But, well, you are clearly suicidal.”  
“Clearly.”  
“Then, we do have something in common: our worst traits.”

Viera laughed heartedly and realised, that Iorveth was laughing, as well. And for today it was enough.


	34. Coinneach Velen 1268

COINNEACH

Velen 1268  
Blue Mountains foothills  
Lyria and Rivia

A day ago, they left the last Lyrian settlement and headed into the Blue Mountains. It was ten days since they've left Rastburg and they had two weeks of march ahead. Obviously, the road through Aedirn would be much faster, but they've decided not to venture to the other Nordling kingdom so soon after the war. Coinneach became convinced, that it was the right choice after he has met the merchant in Dravograd.  
In the evening, he was lying alone on the blankets, waiting for Viera to join him. During the last few days, they've been barely talking. He knew that he shouldn't blame her for not telling him the truth about the pogrom. He knew it, but something didn't allow him to let it go. As the woman entered the tent, she sat down next to him and said, looking sadly at him:  
“Maybe I should go back, Neach. Maybe it would be for the best.”  
“I don't want you to leave” – he replied.  
“OK.”  
“But it hurts, you know? Being with you hurts me almost physically. You're like a thorn and you stuck with me for better and for worse.”  
“Coinneach, we don't know, if anything happens after we disregard...” – she started slowly, but he interrupted her quickly:  
“Do you want to go home? Because if you do, I won't stop you, Viera. You're not my prisoner and I would never want you to feel that way. You're always free to leave.”  
“I wish it was what I wanted. Are we foolish? Are we making a huge mistake?”  
“It's possible. But maybe we just need time to figure it out.”  
“There are things, which we've figured out with ease” – she said and smirked.

Viera didn't move but was still looking at him intently. Coinneach realised then, that he got so used to the scent of jasmine, that he barely noticed it. Although, it followed her as always. He wondered how would it be once it's gone. This thought, once again, hurt more than any of the previous ones. He wasn't sure how many betrayals would yet be forgotten because of this feeling. How many lies he would forgive for one more day with her? This fear of losing her in some inexplicable way seemed to be able to put many things into quite a different perspective. It wasn't rational. He wasn't rational, but this ship sailed a long time ago, so he smiled gently and said:  
“Come to me.”

In the morning, Coinneach woke up, holding Viera almost desperately. This wasn't a good sign, he had no illusions about it. But there he was: clinging to this dh'oine like she was all, what he had left. It wasn't true. It wasn't even real, but it was how he felt sometimes. He left her soon and headed to the centre of the camp. Iorveth was already sitting at the breakfast, looking almost like himself again. As Coinneach sat down next to him, the younger commander said:  
“You don't need to look at me with such a worry, you know?”  
“I do. But... before... It wasn't easy for us either, fraere” – Neach answered quietly.  
“I do know it... The funny thing was that the moment I shot that first arrow at her - however, I missed by far and it took me a while to adjust to seeing differently - I wanted to tell Isengrim that I'll be fine. I wanted to tell him, that we'll manage, that it didn't break us... But then, I realised that he'll never be here again. He was so worried, so remorseful: I know, that he blamed himself for what had happened to me... And he'll never know, that... there is a way to move on. I hate it. I hate, that he died regretting... that he died at all” – the younger Seidhe finished quietly and Neach stated with a heavy heart:  
“I'm here, Iorveth. And you're not alone. I miss him, too. I think that maybe he would have something sensible to say about... everything. He usually had. But, I'll never know.”  
“Do you want me to say something sensible?”  
“Please do.”  
“She's bad news. It's not that I don't like her. Gods... I'm beginning to, but something tells me, that she is bad news.”  
“She didn't choose her fate” – Coinneach replied quietly.  
“Are you sure?” – Iorveth asked and looked at him pensively. – “You know... In Rastburg, I wasn't the most entertaining person, but I had a chance to look at things from a perspective, to observe. Viera's brother was sure, that she'd see red and would try to find a way out of this, but she didn't. Don't you believe, that it is suspicious?”  
“Are you asking me about her motives?”  
“Yes.”

Coinneach looked ahead for a moment before he answered:  
“There is one person she's loyal to, Iorveth.”  
“Meve. So you believe, that Viera is a spy?” – the younger commander asked quietly.  
“I believe, that they decided to get to know us better, yes.”  
“By spying on you from your own bed... Are you OK with it?”  
“What's the alternative? Do you think, that it would be wise to challenge fate? We can at least attempt to control Viera and information she passes to Lyrians. What we cannot control are the consequences which may follow, if we disregard destiny. Do you remember Queen Calanthe?”  
“I guess... OK, I get your point. However, we are playing a dangerous game. You are playing a dangerous game.”  
“True.”

They were salient for a while again, but Iorveth asked soon:  
“Your explanation seems quite... cold, calculating. It sounds as if you've been using this situation, as well. But when you're with her, it doesn't look that way. I've never seen you so... captivated by a woman before and we know each other for years by now. So what is real, Neach?”  
“When she's not with me... I start to doubt everything, to suspect her for gods know what kind of plots... But then... Then, with her, I stop and when I think about my previous dilemmas, I feel like an idiot. She feels like... I don't know” – Coinneach replied slowly, hesitantly.  
“Well, it's certainly getting complicated, fraere.”

They've sat together for a long time in silence. Neach wasn't sure whether he should seriously consider asking Viera to leave or begging her to stay. To tell the truth: he wasn't sure about great many things any more.


	35. Viera Velen 1268

VIERA

Velen 1268  
Blue Mountains foothills  
Lyria and Rivia

Viera had no idea why looking up at great slopes and tops of the Blue Mountains, covered in autumn colours, made her heart clench strangely. She had this feeling, that she is missing something. She wasn't sure what it was, but something was eluding her and she was going crazy.  
They were still able to ride on their horses, but they couldn't ride too fast in the thick mountain forest, so now she was close to Coinneach and was able to converse with him with ease. Then, she asked:  
“When was the first time you left home?”  
“I think... 1233, I was barely out of age then” – he answered pensively.  
“Different times...”  
“Yes, but no less dangerous. We: me, Toruviel and Filavandrel, journeyed as far as to Cintra the next year, hiding in the mountains.”  
“Quite a road. Why did you travel this far?”  
“Well... that's...” – he hesitated, but she answered for him:  
“Ah! Aen Seidhe uprising in Cintra took place a few years later. I suppose I can guess: why.”  
“Indeed.”  
“Did you stay for Pavetta's birth?” – Viera asked and chuckled at his expression, apologising: – “Sorry, it was wrong of me.”  
“It was” – he shook his head disapprovingly: – “Come on, let's take a break for today. We need to prepare the camp before dusk.”

They stopped and made the camp at the clearing, quite high up the mountain slope. Viera and Coinneach took care of their tent quickly and disappeared for a moment inside. No, they didn't have sex. They were just lying together for a while, enjoying each other's company. She had no idea why as she straddled him and looked him in the eyes, her playful smile fell and changed into a pensive frown. This was when some shreds of thoughts turned into her whisper:  
“Pavetta...”  
“What?” – he asked with surprise.  
“Pavetta... In 1249 the princess of Cintra married a man. The man who came from nowhere and was no one. The man called Duny, Urcheon of Erlenwald. But they both died in 1257 during the storm in Sedna Abbys... It was a maelstrom unlike any before... Unless....” – she trailed off and got to her feet.  
“Viera, why...?” – Coinneach started the question, but she didn't listen, too deep in her own thoughts, as she stormed out of his tent and started to look for Iorveth.

As she stood by the fire, which was already burning in the centre of their camp, she asked:  
“Where is Iorveth?”  
“In his tent, but he's busy” – Toruviel answered and smirked.  
“I don't care” – she replied and started to walk, as the Seidhe added:  
“I wouldn't go inside if I were you. Unless you're up for a threesome...”

She heeded Toruviel's warning, so she didn't enter but called from outside:  
“Iorveth! Come out, I need to speak with you. Now!”

Soon, she heard a movement inside the tent and a moment later Iorveth emerged from his tent, followed shortly by Lóegairen. They both had quite confused expressions, especially since Coinneach stood behind her a moment later and started worryingly:  
“Viera...”  
“Don't” – she turned to him and then looked back at Iorveth, saying:  
“Duny... you said this name a few days ago” – she stated matter-of-factly and observed him closely.  
“Did I? I don't...” – the Seidhe tried to lie, looking with worry at Coinneach, who was now standing next to her.  
“Don't make a fool out of me. And I had this impression, that... Is Duny, Urcheon of Erlenwald and Emhyr var Emreis the same person?” – she asked in a strong voice, but no one answered.

Iorveth looked at her, pursing his lips. She started to shake, violently, when she turned to Coinneach and demanded:  
“Answer me! Did you lie to me, to Meve? Or, at least, did you purposely hide this EXTREMELY IMPORTANT fact?”  
“Viera... we talked about it. We both know, that there are things, which we won't be able to talk about. I can't answer your question” – he replied as always: stoically.  
“Are you still loyal to him? To the Emperor of Nilfgaard? After what he has done to you and your men?” – she asked harshly, frowning deeply.  
“I'm loyal to Filavandrel aén Fidháil” – he replied strongly.

Viera felt anger which was almost boiling in her veins. She was beyond furious now, so she exclaimed:  
“This man officially married his own daughter a few months ago! On how many levels is this wrong in your opinion?!”

Obviously, she knew that what she just stated wasn't entirely true. Meve was absolutely certain, that the girl presented in Cintra as Cirilla Fiona Ellen Riannon, Princess of Cintra, was, in fact, an imposter. The girl looked almost like true Ciri, but not close enough to fool the Queen of Lyria and Rivia. The real Lion Cub of Cintra was still missing, although... much suggested, that she was alive.  
But Emhyr var Emreis presented said imposter as Ciri and now Viera understood, that Ciri was his daughter. This meant, that the Cintran marriage was invalid. Meve could fight against His Imperial Majesty with his own lies as a weapon.

_This... This would be splendid._

But Viera didn't intend to disclose too much to Aen Seidhe who were now looking at her with worry. After a while, Coinneach suggested stoically:  
“Viera, I'll make sure, that the moment we enter Dol Blathanna you'll meet with Filavandrel and you'll have a chance to discuss it. I don't know, what he and Enid want to do with this knowledge and it's not my decision to make. You...” – he hesitated so she cut in:  
“...shouldn't have learned the truth...”  
“Yes, you shouldn't have. Iorveth let it slip and it's too late for trying to remedy that, but wait with disclosing it to your Queen, please.”  
“So you or someone else can kill me and make sure, that she'll never learn the truth?” – she asked coldly.

Coinneach's features tensed considerably when he replied with disappointment in his voice:  
“If you believe, that I'll allow it: you are a fool. I promised to keep you safe and I will, especially from my people. I know, that with the rest you are perfectly capable to deal on your own.”

Viera paused and observed him. He was deadly serious, she realised it now. She realised, that he meant what he said and if he was to be able to do it... she needed to sacrifice a little, as well. At least for a time. Still, was she willing to sacrifice anything for him? No... But on the other hand, she didn't need to push on revealing this information now – there was no hurry. So, in the end, she stated:  
“All right. I'll wait till we get to Dol Blathanna.”


	36. Coinneach Saovine 1269

COINNEACH

Saovine 1269  
Dol Blathanna

They descended the Blue Mountains in the late afternoon. In the foothills, with an enchanting view on the valley, was located the splendid palace and the city built around it. When their lands were occupied by the kingdom of Aedirn, the governor lived there. But now, as Dol Blathanna became an almost sovereign duchy, the palace became once more the seat of the Aen Seidhe ruler.  
He remembered this place well. The white palace with countless sentinels of diverse high, covered by cone-shaped, silver roofs. Around it, houses were built, mostly from light grey and white stones. Everywhere were growing trees and plants and there was truly no borderline between the city, and meadows and fields surrounding it. He noticed beautiful, lace-like arcs and ornaments, but some of them were now destroyed and falling into decay. Still, the city surrounding the palace was monumental, by some even called the city of Silver Towers.  
As they got to the main square of the city, two Seidhe approached them: Lindon and Finiel. The latter stated:  
“Commanders, welcome at last in Dol Blathanna. Her Highness, Enid aen Gleanna, is awaiting you in the palace.”  
“Finiel... it was terribly formal” – Coinneach replied and chuckled.  
“I know, but Enid insisted” – the Seidhe said, chuckling as well. – “I think, that she enjoys a little bit of formality.”  
“She has every right to.”  
“Yes” – Lindon joined their conversation and looked pointedly to Neach's left, where Viera was standing. Coinneach took a deep breath but the other Seidhe continued looking at the woman: – “Major, you're expected to walk with me.”  
“Expected?” – Viera asked harshly, insufficiently trying to mask her irritation.  
“Yes. Expected. Now” – Lindon repeated slowly, as if he believed, that she didn't understand him properly the first time.

Coinneach observed Viera with worry. She fisted her palms and clenched her jaw but didn't look at him. It took her a while, but she started to walk towards Lindon, who led her to one of the streets heading East. Coinneach was watching them for a while longer, but in the end, he turned to Finiel, who smiled uneasily and turned around, leading them to the palace.  
It was located on the western side of the market. Exactly twelve wide stairs led to the main gate. As they walked inside he realised, that famous sculptures from the main foyer were gone, probably stolen by Aedirnians at the time when they were leaving this place. As they walked towards the throne room, he also noticed, that there was no furniture which probably shared sculptures' fate. Coinneach sighed, but soon, they stood in front of the white oak wood door.  
The grand, double door was opened and they entered the great hall, now used as a throne room. On both sides of the spacious chamber there were high and narrow windows ornamented with colourful masterpieces of stained glass – dh'oine couldn't steal them, as it seemed. Almost snow-white floor and walls of the room were now splendidly enlightened in multiple colours. The throne room looked magical.  
Enid was sitting comfortably on the throne made of white Amell marble and observed with a smile as they approached. For a split of a second, her demeanour made him angry.

_You sent us to death not so long ago and now you're smiling..._

But he swallowed his bitterness. The same sentiment led him to consider for a moment, whether he shall kneel before her. The Duchess was observing them attentively, with a bit of worry: she wasn't sure what they'd do, either. But Coinneach decided, that it was not a way to start to build their State and People, so as he approached the throne, he knelt respectfully and greeted her formally, bowing slightly his head:  
“Your Highness.”  
“Commanders, rise up. We're happy to see you” – she replied in her melodic voice.  
“Thank you, Your Highness.”  
“We owe you a lot. You were beacons of hope and swords of truth. We are all grateful for your sacrifice.”

Her last word echoed in his head almost painfully.

_Sacrifice... I'm not a martyr... Isengrim._

Many words threatened to escape his lips in that moment – a great many, but he didn't let them. He stood there silent, almost resigned, looking in the empty eyes of the most beautiful woman in the world.

_Since the Peace of Cintra, everything seems to be false... Feels like a lie. Like we were living on a borrowed time. The war left us empty, even if we achieved at least some of our goals. Nothing can be as it was before._  
_But Viera... she is something new. That's why she doesn't feel this way._

Enid, obviously, read his mind with ease and demanded politely:  
“I believe, that you have something to tell me, Coinneach.”  
“Do I?” – he asked coldly.  
“You brought a...” – the Duchess cleared her throat before choosing the word: – “… guest with you to Dol Blathanna. She's a Lyrian major, as I was informed.”  
“Yes, I did invite her.”  
“And you intend for her to stay with us for a while?”  
“Yes.”  
“She's close to the dh'oine queen, Meve, isn't she?”  
“Indeed, she's one of her most trusted commanders.”  
“And the Law of Surprise was at play by your meeting, as I've heard.”  
“Yes. It was...” – he hesitated but finished: – “Fate, I believe.”  
“All right... then, if Filavandrel doesn't speak against it, she'll be allowed to stay with you.”

The Duchess chose her words incredibly carefully. He realised, that she didn't say, that Viera would be welcome in Dol Blathanna. No, she said, that she would be allowed to stay as long as she'd stay with him. Truly, he was grateful, that Viera wasn't there to hear it. This kind of objectification would surely be too much for her.  
Enid asked some more questions, but thankfully Lóegairen answered them for him. Coinneach focused instead on the people standing behind the Duchess. He knew some of them back from the time when he lived in the Blue Mountains, at the Edge of the World... but now they looked quite different. They stood tall and proud again, they didn't look hungry or sick any more – to the contrary, they looked as if they were in their prime. They were also wearing classic, but surely quite new formal attire. None of them had scars, none of them had been fighting in the war.  
His men, in comparison, looked like vagabonds: in dirty, worn-off clothing, with destroyed hair, many scars and signs of exhaustion. They looked like they've come from another, very different world. They looked like they would hardly fit in the newly restored society of Dol Blathanna. And maybe... maybe it was the truth.


	37. Viera Saovine 1269

VIERA

Saovine 1269  
Dol Blathanna

As she walked a few steps behind the elf, she knew, that he was fully aware, that she was walking behind him, but still, he didn't intend to politely wait for her. Yes, it would be a polite thing to do, but she had a feeling, that politeness would be the last thing she sees in Dol Blathanna. Here, she was treated like a strayed dog. She knew this feeling. She remembered it from her first years in Rivia. And this... this wasn't a good thing.  
Viera wasn't happy about the attitude of Aen Seidhe from here towards her, but it didn't change her admiration for the main city of Dol Blathanna. Viera and Lindon were heading East from the main square. The streets they walked on were made of almost white sand. Trees were growing in equal distances along all the roads. In many places, there were carpets of grass and wildflowers, but the most impressive were the hanging gardens. The Aen Seidhe adopted the city back to their customary architecture and all balconies and terraces had incredible, colourful gardens. Some of the gardens looked as if they were even cascading down as far as to the ground. The elven architecture was made to fit with nature, so the result was marvellous. Viera and her guide reached the border of the city after maybe a quarter of an hour and there were no city walls or gates, but the city seemed to mix naturally with meadows and fields surrounding it.  
Lindon led her out of the city and they started to walk on the unused field, which was slowly changing into a wild meadow again. She was still a few steps behind him, when out of thin air – just next to her – emerged a silhouette. The... being... was a bit higher than an elf, but walked on two legs, as well. His face was only remotely resembling human and he had two horns. For her... he looked like a Devil from the stories she heard as a child. So, for the first time in a very, very long time, she screamed in fear, stumbled, almost fell to the ground, but still managed to keep steady and to reach for her sword, making two steps back.  
Lindon turned around and called angrily:  
“Don't kill him! You, dh'oine, and your need to kill everything you don't understand!”  
“Did you lead me here to be executed by the Devil? Was that your plan? It's hardly my fault, that I don't intend to die without a fight!” – she called back furiously.  
“I'm not going to kill you” – the being spoke Hen Llinge, looking at her warmer than both elves she's met today, so she took a breath and replied politely:  
“You're a sentient being... I know the Code, I won't kill you. But I'm not a witcher, so I'll be thankful for more information. What's your name?”  
“Torque... And you started with my name, that's good” – he nodded approvingly, but she narrowed her eyes and asked:  
“What do you mean?”  
“Nothing. I'm a sylvan.”  
“Sylvan? I've never heard of your species, but I'm not a specialist... However... as I'm thinking about it now, I may have read about your species somewhere... I just can't remember...” – she paused and smiled politely: – “Well... it's nice to meet you, Torque.”  
“It's nice to meet you, too. Lindon, I'll take her from here” – the sylvan turned to the elf, who nodded shortly and left. – “Follow me, please” – he continued, looking at her.

Torque waited for her to align with him and then he led her further through the fields. It turned out, that he was quite talkative, too:  
“Where are you from?” – he asked curiously.  
“Lyria” – she replied.  
“I've never heard... But I don't leave this valley, really. Only sometimes I venture higher up the mountains but never far. This is my home.”  
“Were you living here, when humans ruled over these lands?”  
“Yes. Most of them were bearable fellows.”  
“Oh... “  
“I played them sometimes and they were giving me food, hoping that I'll spare them and left them alone. For years it worked all right...”  
“And then?”  
“Then... I started to help the Aen Seidhe.”  
“Why?” – she asked with interest and Torque replied immediately, without a moment of hesitation:  
“They were starving. They needed help.”

Viera looked at him pensively. She understood at once, that Torque was not only a sentient being but also an empathic one. It was more than could be said about humans or elves for the matter. But she didn't say it out loud, she just sighed heavily.  
After an hour of walk, they reached a small, abandoned village. Torque explained at once:  
“It was a dh'oine village, by local peasants called Lower Posada.”  
“But it looks abandoned” – she said, looking at the buildings.  
“It is. The inhabitants left their homes.”  
“Why? Haven't Peace of Cintra guaranteed, that they can stay?” – she asked pensively and Torque explained in details:  
“Maybe... but they were too afraid of Aen Seidhe. But, for example, Upper Posada is still inhabited by dh'oine and they live there peacefully. Lord Filavandrel is just coming back from there, this is why he arranged his meeting with you here.”  
“Oh... so I'm meeting Lord Filavandrel aén Fidháil in dirty, travelling attire, stinking of my horse and road. Additionally... I wasn't even granted a simple bath, so my hair looks more than pitiful. That's exactly how I've imagined this meeting” – she stated ironically and a calm, not impolite voice replied from around the corner:  
“I'll take it into consideration, major.”

The Seidhe has just joined them, looking with a blank expression at her. He had blond hair, in many places laced with silver. His posture was commanding, especially in his exquisite, dark-green elven clothing. For a second, she was frozen and couldn't avert her gaze from him but soon she bowed deeply and greeted him:  
“My Lord.”  
“Well, major” – he started slowly. – “I've heard a very strange story before you arrived here. Now, I would like to hear it from you. In details.”  
“Don't you believe, that Coinneach shall be here, as well? After all, I wasn't a part of its beginning.”  
“Was it truly the beginning?” – he inquired, looking at her intently.

The sylvan left them almost unnoticed. Viera took a deep breath and commenced to tell the tale, starting with the beginning of the war and the strange meeting in the caves. As she finished with their travel, which brought them all to Dol Blathanna, she went silent. The elder Seidhe was looking at her attentively and in the end, he asked:  
“So, however you don't believe in destiny, you've decided to come here with him. You said, that you were worried about reactions of your family and your Queen, but it hardly sounded like they made you do anything. And I know, that Coinneach wouldn't have it, if they did. So, why are you really here, luned?”

_Luned? That's... well... not unexpected, still it's not very polite..._

But Viera didn't voice her discontent. Instead, she asked resignedly:  
“How honest do you want me to be, my lord?”  
“As honest as possible” – he replied.  
“At the beginning... Well, I like him. Later, I wanted to ask you a question.”  
“Me?”  
“Yes.”  
“Then ask.”  
“Is Duny, Urcheon of Erlenwald and Emhyr var Emreis the same person?”

The Seidhe didn't even acknowledge that he heard her question. He just started to walk slowly towards the centre of the village. She hesitated for a while but followed him in the end. There he sat on one of the benches near the biggest house in the village and inquired:  
“Did you know Geralt of Rivia?”  
“No. I only know of him” – Viera replied.  
“I've met him many years ago, even before the war started, here: in Dol Blathanna. I could have him killed... but I've spared both of them: him and the bard. Soon after that meeting, I've heard about said bard's disgusting song and later, that at least on one occasion Gwynbleidd killed Scoia'tael. And I regretted my decision. But then... then I've learned how he died. Now... now my memory of him is more ambivalent” – he said, looking ahead in the direction of the Mountains.

Viera was silent. She wasn't sure, whether he expected her to say something. At this point... she wasn't even sure, whether he was talking to her. But Filavandrel continued:  
“You see... there was a time in my life when everything seemed simple: almost black and white. I believed that I figured out the world, our world, at least to some extent. Enough to make choices and decisions for all. Then... Well, then Enid suggested, that however we got our Valley of Flowers back, we must turn our backs on our warriors, our youth. She and Emhyr... they sentenced them all to die. Our Scoia'tael... our brave, desperate children... The day I've heard it and I forgave it – was the worst day of my life. But, I knew that the needs of many outweigh the needs of the few, even if that policy was extremely short-sighted. I knew it and I accepted it. And, by then, I still could see very clearly, who is my enemy. Our enemy.”

He paused and looked at her pensively. For a time they didn't speak, didn't even move, but then he spoke again:  
“And later, there was Gwynbleidd and your Queen – Meve, doing what they've done for us” – he sighed before he added: – “My sentiment towards plenty of things changed to more... ambivalent. I started to recognise the shades of grey once more. “

Filavandrel narrowed his eyes, looked Viera deep in the eyes and nodded, confirming her suspicions:  
“Yes, luned. You've uncovered the most protected secret of our times. But, as you probably know, the true Zirael disappeared. Our hope for escaping this world is now gods only know where.”  
“I... don't believe I follow...” – Viera opened her mouth for the first time only to gape.  
“ _Aen Ithlinnespeath_ , do you know the prophecy?” – he continued and she answered slowly:  
“Of course... _Verily I say unto you, the era of the sword and axe is nigh, the era of the wolf's blizzard. The Time of the White Chill and the White Light is nigh, the Time of Madness and the Time of Contempt: Tedd Deireádh, the Time of End..._ And you believe it to be true? The White Cold is coming?”  
“Yes, Tedd Deireádh is nigh, though not yet here and we have no way to escape or to stop it.”  
“It won't happen in my lifetime, probably in our lifetimes... Why are you telling me this?”  
“Because this is the only real perspective, the only right and just one. Not the war, not even our lives, but the survival of all. The legacy, which both your people and mine do not really have a perspective to leave for future generations. We are fighting the wrong wars for the wrong reasons. Who really cares who rules where, if we are facing the cataclysm? Don't you see?” – he asked and sighed again, as she replied politely:  
“But to fight for survival you need to have people to fight for.”  
“Oh, yes. That was my reasoning, as well. So, given a chance, I allied my people with the rightful heir to the throne of Nilfgaard: the man with charisma, name and good teachers. But I didn't know then... that he was also allied with someone else. Someone, who poisoned his mind with the idea of the greater good.”  
“What do you mean?” – she asked slowly, certain once more, that she doesn't follow and he replied in a strong voice:  
“Vilgefortz.”

As she heard this name... she was truly lost. Once she believed, that she has learned and now knew a lot of things, but maybe... maybe there were still things Dol Blathanna would teach her, if she could be humble enough to listen and learn. Truly learn.


	38. Coinneach Saovine 1269

COINNEACH

Saovine 1269  
Dol Blathanna

He left the palace in anger. He was angrier, than he anticipated. And on the top of it, the single thought which came to his mind, as he descended the marble stairs, was more than distressing.

_Viera..._

To his surprise, she wasn't waiting for him at the square in front of the palace, but Lindon was. As he approached him, Coinneach asked at once:  
“Where is Viera?”  
“Your... hmm... paramour will be delivered back to you if lord Filavandrel decides to do it” – Lindon replied rather coldly.  
“Where is she?!” – he growled.  
“I don't know. The sylvan was charged with taking her somewhere. I just led her to the fields outside the city. She may be anywhere by now, commander.”

Coinneach clenched his jaw. He promised... he promised to protect her, but already on their first day in Dol Blathanna, he failed. It wasn't right. Like many things here, it wasn't right, but still, he stated:  
“Don't ever call her that in her presence. She's a major, boy. Unlike you.”  
“Paramour? Well... I believe, that it's the least... blunt name for it” – Lindon replied and shrug.  
“For what?”  
“Dh'oine whore.”  
“Is that what you think of her?”  
“It's what we are all thinking about her. And, commander, with all due respect, it won't change. The law of surprise or not... warming up your bed is the only position she would ever have here.”

The commander narrowed his eyes dangerously before he growled:  
“Are you driving me out of Dol Blathanna? How dare you, boy?”  
“I'm appealing to your reason, commander. This will never end well” – Lindon replied coldly and added still: – “And be careful, commander. Whatever future you think you can have with her is impossible. In Dol Blathanna there'll be no place for... a bastard inh'eid, either.”  
“Get out of my sight!”  
“I'm just voicing the concern of all, commander.”  
“Then voice it somewhere else, you...!”  
“Neach!” – Lóegairen joined them quickly and put a hand on his shoulder.

Both Seidhe went silent, Coinneach swallowed heavily and turned around to walk away from them. Soon, Lóegairen caught up with him and said:  
“Come, I'll show you your house. Your new home, Neach!”  
“Indeed. I'm just curious: for how long?” – he replied with frustration.  
“They'll get used to it, fraere. Just give them time.”  
“I don't think so.”  
“Don't worry. Everything changes, _panta rhei_... Remember?”

They walked to the outskirts of the city and Lóegairen stopped just in front of one of small, grey houses. He opened the door and they entered together. Coinneach stopped at the centre of the living room and took a deep breath.  
The house was ready to be inhabited: there were furniture and other basic things needed in a house, like linen, cutlery, even some new clothes. It was nice, normal. But above all... it was truly a home. A home he yearned for for so many years, decades really... He was breathing slowly, taking in the surroundings, as Lóegairen spoke:  
“They were truly waiting for us to come back. Maybe we judged them wrong...”  
“No, fraere. I think... that this is supposed to be an apology. But... is it enough?” – Coinneach asked slowly.  
“Do you need more?”  
“Maybe... I don't know” – he paused and added: – “Now, I need a bath and to change. Then, I'm going to find Viera.”  
“Filavandrel won't hurt her, Neach. Not without a reason.”  
“I know.”

Lóegairen left, leaving Coinneach alone in a place he should call home.


	39. Viera Saovine 1269

VIERA

Saovine 1269  
Dol Blathanna

Viera was still standing, gaping at the elder Seidhe. It started to rain and heavy drops were falling on her head, but she was too petrified to even move. In the end, she admitted:  
“My lord, I'm not used to saying this, but I don't understand. Vilgefortz? The sorcerer, member of the Chapter? What am I...” – she paused at the sudden realisation and continued slowly: – “So he wasn't a hero at Sodden... He led them to death, all of them, but succeed only to kill the Thirteen. He was supporting Emhyr var Emreis from the very beginning...”  
“But not from the beginning Emhyr knew it...” – Filavandrel cut in. – “At the beginning... Duny only wanted to take his father's throne back. His legacy and birthright. You can see how similar our goals were by then... Of course, he intended to conquer some Southern kingdoms, too. Then, I believed... that we may have a powerful ally, maybe even a safe haven in the time of need. After some time, Cintra appeared in his plans as well but nothing beyond the Yaruga. But... Vilgefortz found Emhyr soon after Ciri was born. He shared with him the first and the second Aen Ithlinnespeath, the one about the White Cold and the one about the Destroyer of Nations... along with his own interpretation.”  
“What interpretation?”  
“That Emhyr will rule over half of the world, and his son, born from Hen Ichaer... will destroy the world we know and build a new one to rule over all of it.”  
“It's madness!” – she exclaimed with horror and he nodded:  
“I agree. I said it to Emhyr as we met for the first time in the City of Golden Towers in Nilfgaard, his Nilfgaard. But... Emhyr var Emreis wasn't Duny any more... The power corrupts, luned. And absolute power corrupts absolutely. His Imperial Majesty believed that, at last, he found his true destiny. That he was born to be a father of the Destroyer of Nations, born of Hen Ichaer. The Elder Blood, our blood” – Filavandrel paused and closed his eyes. Viera was still trying to comprehend it all, so she said slowly:  
“So... it wasn't about Cintra. It was about the whole Continent... from the very beginning of the war. And about Ciri who escaped the Slaughter of Cintra in 1263. But... wasn't it Falka who promised her killers, that it would be of her blood, that the Destroyer and Avenger would be born? We know now, that her daughter, Adele, died without an heir. Falka's bloodline had ended a long time ago. The only line remotely related to hers is the one of the kings of Redania...” – he nodded approvingly and stated:  
“This is the main problem with prophecies... Everyone can interpret them for their own purpose... Some believe that the Destroyer is to be a man, but it makes no sense to link it to Elder Blood then, because Hen Ichaer manifests itself only in females of Lara Doren's line. Others say that it's a girl, so... maybe Cirilla herself? Or her daughter? Or her daughter's daughter? Either way, it turned out, that it didn't matter. Truly, it was not, what Vilgefortz was really after. He was after the power for himself, the power of time and space. He wanted to use Hen Ichaer for his own goals.”

Viera started to breathe heavily. She had no idea what this conversation was truly about, so after a while of silence, when only sounds of falling rain could be heard in Lower Posada, she asked quietly:  
“Why are you telling me all of this?”  
“Because destiny and the future are not a riddle to be solved. They'll come to us whether we intend them to do so or not. But we shape them, too. Usually unintentionally...” – Filavandrel answered slowly.  
“Do you want to say, that my actions led me here?”  
“Didn't they? You coming here, with Coinneach, wasn't just a coincidence. I don't know, whether it was destiny or some divine power, but I do know, that it was you – your choices, what led you here. So, you're exactly, where you should be. Not because of some past or future but because of the present. Now, Torque will take you back to the city. You may stay with us, obviously. And I'll make sure, that others will understand that, as well. Don't expect apologies, though.”  
“I don't.”  
“Good. Now, va fail, luned.”

Lord Filavandrel stood up and started to walk slowly to the North. Torque emerged from the thin air, right behind her and accompanied her on the way back to the city. Near to the city, on the fields now golden from the unharvested wheat, she soon noticed and recognised the silhouette. Coinneach had time to take a bath and to change, so now he looked incredibly elegant and handsome in the elven attire in the colour of the night sky. Seeing him, she smiled involuntarily and chuckled. It was Torque, who stated then:  
“He's waiting for you. He was worried.”  
“I know” – she replied quietly.  
“How does it make you feel?”  
“Are you a psychologist now?” – she asked ironically, but the sylvan didn't understand and asked:  
“What?”  
“Never mind... I honestly don't know.”

As she approached him with Torque, Coinneach smiled fondly at the sylvan and stated:  
“Thank you for watching out for her, Torque.”  
“It's nothing. Actually, it was nice” – the sylvan replied, smiled and left them alone.

For a time she was observing the Seidhe, trying to read something from his features, but it was futile. He looked tired and there was something else... but she couldn't understand it, so she decided to forget it for now. Then, she leaned in to him and kissed him gently, hugging him closely. In some, strange way... he made her feel better, lighter than she felt just a moment ago.


	40. Coinneach Saovine 1269

COINNEACH

Saovine 1269  
Dol Blathanna

Coinneach and Viera lived together in the house on the outskirts of the city for a week now. His home... theirs?

_Let's leave defining it for later..._

Viera was still asleep, looking serenely with a small smile gracing her lips. Coinneach was sitting on the chair in the bedroom, drinking juice they've made yesterday and pondering on the last week and, really, the last month. Lóegairen's words were still quite clear in his mind.

_Find her, fuck her, think later... with a clear mind._

Coinneach did find her. He did fuck her, even multiple times since that day and he believed, that now it would be the time to think clearly. Probably. But he and Viera became literally inseparable. They were living together, hunting and riding together, sleeping together. Truly, they haven't left each other for more than well... maybe an hour since they spent the first night together, back in Rastburg palace. And he liked it. He was probably even becoming too used to it.  
He also realised, that despite the time in the camp near Dravograd, they never even quarrelled, never were of a different opinion or wanted different things. Their relationship, as one would probably call it, was perfect. And that... was odd, taking into consideration, that they've met eight weeks ago and have come from completely different backgrounds, almost worlds.  
Winter was coming to Dol Blathanna inevitably and the sun was rising later and later with every passing day. Now, the very first sun-ray enlighten the room and Coinneach realised, that Viera was waking up. It took her a while to get fully awake, but as she did, she turned to him in a half-lying position and asked:  
“What are you doing, Neach?”  
“Nothing, really” – he replied.  
“Are you thinking or watching me sleep?”  
“Can I do both?”  
“Obviously. Can you also talk and walk in my direction?” – she asked with a playful smirk.  
“I can, but why would I do it?” – he replied with a question but smiled teasingly, too.  
“Because you want to make love to me.”  
“Do I?” – he asked, standing up.  
“Obviously. What else would you want to do so early in the morning?”

She was right, of course. So they left the bedroom maybe an hour later. They've prepared the breakfast together and ate, talking about one of his favourite, however quite silly pass-times, which was watching birds. It was an activity which allowed him to fully rest and to forget. He liked it, not that he had a lot of time to do it in the previous years but now he had nothing better to do. Viera, on the other hand, has never had time to do the sweet nothing since the time she turned out of age and joined the Lyrian Army. So, on that day they intended to go far from the city to simply do nothing and maybe find some birds to watch.

An hour later, as he came back from the bath, Viera was ready to go and the house looked strangely ordered. Certainly much more ordered than half an hour ago, as he went to take a bath. He looked at her questioningly and asked:  
“Did you... order things up here?”  
“Obviously and I cleaned a bit. I like order, but you know it.”  
“But... I could have helped you.”  
“It's fine... I like cleaning.”  
“You didn't need to do it on your own. You're not...” – he started, but she interrupted him with a smile:  
“I know, Neach. But it's really not a problem. We share house duties, it's not a problem.”  
“Yeah... we hunt and cook together and you clean. That's... hardly sharing, Viera.”  
“It's fine, really. Now, we are leaving. Come on” – she replied with a wide grin and opened the door.

The next day in the evening, they were sitting together in the living room, reading books. Suddenly, Viera turned to him, kissed him and went back to reading. He chuckled and asked:  
“What was it for?”  
“I like you” – she replied.  
“Just like that?”  
“I like you a lot. Better?”  
“It's not what I've meant.”  
“I know. But it's the truth. I know that it's not ideal, but... I'm happy I came here, to Dol Blathanna...” – she replied with a smile.  
“Really?”  
“Yes. I'm happy with you, Neach. And the Valley of Flowers... It's enchanting. I hope that things will start to get better, you know? I'm trying to adjust...”  
“Viera... I want you to be happy, not just adjusted” – Coinneach stated heavily, but she chuckled and replied:  
“That's why it'll always be worth it, Neach. Because of you.”

Coinneach couldn't find the reply to that for a long time.

_How? How can you be so... perfect? I can't get it._

He looked her deep in the eyes for a long time before he said:  
“Viera, ma mienne, I don't know what to say. I...”  
“Don't say anything, but make love to me” – she replied, smiled very seductively and got up to head to their bedroom.

A week later, as he came back home from a few-hours meeting with Filavandrel and the rest of the commanders, he realised that she liked washing their clothes and chopping wood, too. Not that he complained about it, but... Well, he didn't even need to think about house duties and she seemed happy doing it. So, soon, he stopped thinking about it altogether.


	41. Viera Saovine 1269

VIERA

Saovine 1269  
Dol Blathanna

It was forenoon, as Neach stood in the door-frame of the living-room and caught her attention, staring at her very intently. Viera chuckled softy and asked:  
“Tell me, my dear, what do you want to do?”  
“I want to fuck you in this room. We haven't done it here yet” – he replied and smirked.  
“Table, chair or sofa?” – she asked.  
“Hmm... sofa.”  
“Like this?”

She undressed quickly, turned around and put her elbows on the back of the sofa, while her knees rested on the seat. Soon, she heard his footsteps and felt his palms touching almost harshly her bottom, sides and back. As Coinneach's fingers travelled to her most sensitive spot and inside her, she arched her spine like a cat and he said:  
“Exactly like this.”

They ended up lying on the sofa and breathing heavily. Viera cuddled up to him and rested her head on his chest, which was still moving fast up and down. She wasn't sure how long they've been lying like this, but suddenly someone knocked on the main door. They both got up and dressed up. Viera left the room and disappeared into the bedroom, but Coinneach went to the door.  
When someone was visiting Neach... Viera preferred to disappear. If it turned out, that visitors were Scoia'tael, she would meet them and stay – she actually grew quite fond of most of them and they seemed to like her, as well. But other Aen Seidhe, the Aen Seidhe from Dol Blathanna as she started to call them... she didn't like them and the feeling was mutual. This time Coinneach found her a few minutes later and stated with a warm smile, which was masking his discontent:  
“It was Lindon. I'm expected at the palace...”  
“Oh, so I'll go hunting” – Viera replied quickly.  
“OK. For long?”  
“Well... probably.”  
“Then, the dinner will be waiting for you.”  
“I love your cooking. I'll try to get back before sunset.”  
“And I'll make your favourite.”  
“Neach... it's sweet, but it's not your favourite.”  
“I like it well enough, don't worry. But...” – he hesitated and she inquired:  
“Yes?”  
“Never mind” – he replied quickly and smiled the same fake smile again.

Viera observed him for a moment, deciding whether to ask or not but in the end she did:  
“Neach... tell me. What's wrong?”  
“You said, that you would try to get back before sunset” – he answered, looking attentively at her.  
“Yees...” – she said and frowned a bit, but he explained in a sad and soft voice:  
“You didn't say, that you would try to get back home....”

She was silent for a long time, looking in his incredible, amber eyes which were now shadowed by worry. Of course, she could lie. But... Viera decided otherwise and said:  
“It doesn't feel like home, Neach. Maybe not yet, but... At home, I have family, friends and my men. Here... it's just you and me, your friends and people who despise me... It's not enough to call it home.”  
“Viera... I want you to be happy” – he replied strongly. – “Even, if it means...” – he started, but she interrupted him heavily:  
“I want you to stay at your home, Neach. And I'm fine. But I know where my home is.”  
“Would it ever change?” – he asked quietly.  
“I don't think so but I made my decision a while ago. Still... I'm fine” – she answered, smiled sadly and stood up.

On her way out, she kissed him softly. But truly... Viera was happy to leave the city for a while. She liked being on her own. She liked it a lot, but in Dol Blathanna with Neach... well... They both had plenty of free time and were spending it together. She like that, as well, but... she yearned for some time alone.  
The forest at the foothills of the Blue Mountains was dark and dense. She knew that it was easy to loose her way there but she paid attention and was able to move through the forest with ease. There, she was alone, what meant that she couldn't hunt for anything too big, so she settled on two hares. Dol Blathanna, despite her people, was truly quite a welcoming place. Viera liked the Valley of Flowers and she adored the Blue Mountains, towering over it. This place... could feel like home.

As Viera was coming back to Neach's house the sun was setting down. She was walking in the direction South-West and was able to admire the beautiful view. The city was bathed in the pink and violet last rays of sun. A few steps from Neach's house, she noticed the woman walking in her direction... and she held her breath. She was used to Aen Seidhe beauty, but she hasn't seen a woman so incredibly beautiful like this one ever before. The woman had long, waved blond hair, elegant features and was wearing a rich, dark-green dress. Viera guessed, who she might be and averted her gaze. But the woman stood just in front of her and stated:  
“You must be major Davell, am I right?”

Viera bowed deeply and replied, still looking at the ground:  
“Yes... Your Highness.”  
“Look at me” – Enid aen Gleanna demanded and the Lyrian major raised her eyes to meet two orbs blue like the summer sky.

Both women were silent for a long time and Viera wasn't sure, what she should do next. But, in the end, the Duchess spoke slowly and coldly:  
“I don't know what he sees in those eyes, because all I see is emptiness.”

Then, Enid left her paying her no mind. Viera was looking ahead with unseeing eyes for a while longer.

_What does she mean? That I'm what? Empty? How dare she? Or maybe she just didn't see the love she was looking for. Or the adoration she receives from her people?_

Neach was waiting for her with the dinner and they've eaten in comfortable silence. It was later, as they were sitting on the sofa, when he asked:  
“How are you?”  
“Fine. Your meeting?” – she replied.  
“All right. We believe that at least for now we are safe.”  
“That's really good, Neach. I hope it stays that way.”  
“Yes. And your hunt?”  
“Oh, I like hunting here. I think, that Dol Blathanna is getting under my skin” – she replied and smiled.

Soon after, they went to bed, but Viera woke up in the middle of the night with worry. She had trouble breathing for a time and some inexplicable shadow crept to her heart. She found herself hugging Coinneach closely, protectively and she wasn't sure... why was she so afraid.


	42. Coinneach Saovine 1269

COINNEACH

Saovine 1269  
Dol Blathanna

Filavandrel's runner found them just after they've finished their lunch. He suggested, that Coinneach was urgently requested at the palace, so he left Viera and headed to the meeting. In the spacious room on the first floor of the palace, Filavandrel was waiting for him with Toruviel. Both had very tensed faces, as he came in and closed the door. She was standing close to the window with an amazing view of the mountains behind her back and noticing Coinneach, she seemed to hold her breath. Filavandrel was sitting in a comfortable wooden armchair, but something strange was in his demeanour, as well. Coinneach didn't sit but asked at once:  
“Are we under attack?”  
“No” – Toruviel replied. – “But you should sit down, Neach.”

He sat down on one of the chairs by the long table and looked at her questioningly. Then, Toruviel continued:  
“Our men are still patrolling the Blue Mountains.”  
“I know” – he replied. – “We want to know what is happening around us.”  
“Yes. Today, two of our scouts came back, previously they had been in Isengrim's commando... For the last month, they were patrolling the Mountains near the Elskerdeg Pass.”  
“All right. What have they seen?”  
“They've found a man, who had a necklace. The necklace was so very similar to... Isengrim's, that they just couldn't let him go.”  
“It's impossible” – Neach hesitated.  
“The man's name is Boreas Mun. He... met the Seidhe, who called himself Wolf Isen at the Pass in Velen. They were both travelling to the other side of the Mountains. They were also in the company of the third man, Sigi Reuven. No one knows, who the last man really is. Either way, they were attacked in the night. The attackers didn't care at all either for Boreas or Sigi, or their belongings. They were tracking Isengrim Faoiltiarna and he was the only target they wanted. Is had no chance. He was...” – Toru swallowed before she spoke further: – “They chopped off his head and left. Boreas swore, that he and Sigi buried... him... with dignity. He gave our men a very detailed description of the location of the grave and... the necklace” – she finished in a whisper.

Coinneach was still too shocked by her revelations to fully comprehend what he was hearing, but Toruviel approached him and laid the necklace on the table just in front of him. It was Isengrim's necklace, he would recognise this uniquely arrow-shaped jade anywhere. The grief came back with double force, knocking out his breath. Coinneach couldn't, he simply couldn't talk but he heard Filavandrel's voice:  
“This means, that Isengrim didn't die in Dillingen, as we were led to believe. He ran away. I guess, that Temerians intended for him to die somewhere on the road, so we would have never learned the truth about the events in Dillingen. This wouldn't be too surprising for any of us. But I fear that Lyrians knew about it, as well. We both know, that major Viera Davell was the commanding officer of the Lyrian unit at the time when you were in the port town.”

Neach didn't reply. The feeling of falling down the abyss came back. The loss... He lost Isengrim some time ago. He still grieved but was able to cope with it. Losing a friend wasn't supposed to be easy but it was suppose to be bearable. Now, he lost him for the second time. And not only him. Coinneach was still trying to understand all the implications of the recent revelations, as Toruviel spoke further:  
“Viera must have known, that he escaped. If we had known... we would find him and bring him back home with us. He didn't even know that he could come back to Dol Blathanna and he believed that he needs to run away as far as possible, as soon as possible. Isengrim was left alone because we didn't know, that there was a point in looking for him” – she paused to take a breath and added: – “Neach.... we could have prevented it. Is could have been here, with us, safe and sound. It's her fault, that he isn't.”

Coinneach looked at her with unseeing eyes.

_Could Viera do something like this? Left Isengrim to die? Knowing, that...? Could she? Would she? The same woman who has been so perfect, so... loving. Was it... was it because she had already betrayed me and was fully aware of it?_

He took a deep breath and replied to both of them:  
“I'll speak with her. If she knew, I'll send her away” – he paused and added in a quieter voice: – “We can't do anything else.”  
“We can. She'll be _persona non grata_ in Dol Blathanna. She'll be banned from coming back to the Valley under the penalty of death. She'll leave at once with no more, than what she has brought here with her, what means: her horse, weapons and clothing. No food, no water, no arrows, no anything” – Filavandrel stated coldly and looked sternly at him.

Coinneach swallowed hard. This was close enough to death sentence. For a long time, his mind seemed to be completely empty. But, after a few minutes, he asked slowly:  
“Is this your order, Filavandrel?”  
“Don't you believe, that it's a fair penalty?” – the older Seidhe asked angrily.  
“She may have had orders.”  
“I'm aware of that.”  
“If she had, you still believe, that this penalty would be fair? You may be sending her to her death and you know it.”  
“She did send Isengrim to his death.”  
“Not exactly.”  
“I'm sorry, Coinneach, but I'm not going to change my mind.”

Coinneach left the palace barely catching his breath. He walked in the direction of his house in a fast pace and with a very heavy heart, fully aware, that in a few minutes he may need to... have a hand in Viera's death. And that... that was still unthinkable for him, even if he was angry at her right now.


	43. Viera Saovine 1269

VIERA

Saovine 1269  
Dol Blathanna

She was sitting leisurely by the kitchen table, reading a book. It was a book on Aen Ithlinnespeath which Coinneach found for her in the palace library a while ago. The prophecy has become her new... well... obsession. The book was truly fascinating and she hasn't even noticed, that Coinneach came back home until he stood by the window at the opposite side of the kitchen and stated in a stern voice:  
“Isengrim is dead.”

Viera was, thankfully, still looking down at her book. For a second her heart stopped and she stopped breathing, but she knew that she needed to gather herself, so she looked at him questioningly and replied:  
“I know, Neach. I know, that he died in Dillingen. I'm sorry, but... there's nothing more I can do or say.”  
“How did he die?” – he inquired.  
“I wasn't there. Temerians were guarding the port and general Jon Natalis told me, that they were attacked by masked men, mercenaries. Before Temerians gathered themselves, Isengrim, Angus and Riordan were gone. They were found half an hour later in the docks. That's all I know.”  
“Were they buried?”  
“I... didn't care. It wasn't my responsibility.”

Coinneach was observing her closely when he stated:  
“Isengrim was killed five weeks ago, at Elskerdeg Pass.”  
“What? That's impossible...” – she whispered, but her heart and throat were painfully clenched.

_I knew it may happen... I knew, but still... I allowed it to happen._

Viera tried to breathe normally when she heard Neach's dead voice:  
“He was travelling with a man, Boreas Mun. After Isengrim's death, Boreas was found by our men and he handed them Isengrim's necklace. I'm absolutely certain, that Boreas Mun was telling the truth. He witnessed as Isengrim was found by mercenaries, who were probably tracking him for some time, and beheaded.”

The Lyrian major stopped breathing and closed her eyes. After a while, she replied sorrowfully:  
“So, I was lied to, as well. I've told you what I've heard. Temerians...” – he interrupted her quickly:  
“But I have one problem with this explanation, Viera. Why would Temerians lie to you?” – he inquired suspiciously.  
“I have no idea” – she replied faking honesty and continued: – “It wouldn't be the first time.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes. They're selectively honest. Or more: they're honest when it suits them.”

When he looked down and then closed his eyes, she knew, that he believed her. He wanted to believe her so desperately, that in the end – he did. But as Coinneach left to go back to Filavandrel, she felt a single tear-drop falling down her cheek. It was terrible.

_I'm a terrible person... And Neach, he..._

Coinneach still stood by her, however, so many clues indicated, that she was at fault. He refused to condemn her without solid evidence, which they didn't have, but may find in the future.  
That evening Viera went to bed alone but couldn't fall asleep. Neach came back sometime later and joined her, hugging her closely again, as he always did. She knew, that in the night they would turn around again and she would wake up hugging him, sheltering him from the world. But this time... this time his pain wasn't only the world's fault. It was hers, as well.

_Isengrim didn't need to die. It was me who sentenced him to run and to die alone in the wilderness. A lone Seidhe is a dead Seidhe..._

She knew that she would never find peace in Dol Blathanna again, nor would she ever fall asleep easily in Coinneach's arms. She didn't deserve to. So, in the middle of the night, she got up, gathered her belongings, some food and water and left his house, being absolutely certain that she would never come back to Dol Blathanna or to him ever again.


	44. Coinneach Yule 1269

COINNEACH

Yule 1269  
Dol Blathanna

Winter came that year with heavy snow and freezing cold. A month has passed since Viera left Dol Blathanna. He knew, that it was for the better. Even, sometimes... he caught himself on hating her. However, they were never absolutely certain, whether the accusation towards her was true. But he learned to hate, that she was with him and that she left. He even learned to hate every, even the smallest, sign of her previous presence in his house. Thankfully, her hair in his bathroom and on his bed were quickly replaced by blond, brown, red and many others. And all of them felt right, from the beginning to the end. Without hesitation.  
Only sometimes he would remember her, but strangely... mostly from the first days in Rastburg palace. Also, only sometimes he would be surprised, that his home didn't smell like jasmine any more. From time to time, he would also yearn for the woman, who was in his embrace but still tried to escape and run away. But with every passing day, she was becoming a more and more distant memory.  
Very soon everyone seemed to forget the Lyrian. Most of the Aen Seidhe living in Dol Blathanna believed from the very beginning, that her presence was a problem. The Scoia'tael... well... many grew used to her, true, but... they were all fully aware, that it was probably for the best.  
That day, Coinneach was back at the palace, sitting with Filavandrel and conversing with him with quite a heavy heart:  
“More refugees have arrived in the last week.”  
“Yes. Mostly from Redania and Kaedwen” – Filavandrel replied sternly.  
“They bring terrible news. Redania is still in chaos, Queen Hedwig and Phillipa Eilhart are trying to bring order but with little success. In the meantime, lords and Knights of the Order of the Flaming Rose are becoming bolder in their attacks on Elder Races.”  
“And Henselt's policy towards our people turned into radical. They are obliged to pay taxes twice as high as dh'oine. The Kaedweni soldiers are charged with collecting taxes and they have unlimited authority to punish everyone, who would try to resist. It seems as if Henselt was driving our people out of Kaedwen.”

They were silent for a time before Coinneach stated:  
“Enid believes, that there's nothing we can do.”  
“And she is right...” – Filavandrel sighed. – “I tell you even more: I'm not sure how many more we are able to shelter here, in our Dol Blathanna.”  
“What do you mean? They are Aen Seidhe!”  
“Yes, but the Valley of Flowers has its limits. Soon, we will face a simple dilemma: our comfort or their lives.”  
“But... we were fighting for freedom for all of our people, weren't we? Isn't it what we had told hundreds, who died during the war?”  
“Yes, it is. And we believed in it until we realised, that the State of Free Aen Seidhe has only limited resources. We can take more refugees, but our lives will gradually become more and more like they were in the Mountains. Or we can close our borders and forsake ideas and values we were fighting for. This is the dilemma we will face sooner than later.”  
“Lesser evil” – Coinneach whispered.  
“Indeed. Politics is always about the lesser evil.”  
“Is this how you sentenced us to die?” – the commander asked coldly. – “Were you sitting here, conversing leisurely, when you did?”

Filavandrel didn't answer for a long time. At first, he looked at Neach sternly, but then he got up and stood by the window. There, he said:  
“It was the lesser evil. It was the price of our Dol Blathanna. I'm sorry, Coinneach, but we... couldn't find another solution. Not until the meeting with Meve.”  
“The alliance with Lyria. But we don't know the worth of this alliance, do we?” – he asked.  
“No. And I wouldn't cross out any motive behind it.”  
“Like false assurance.”  
“Yes.”

Suddenly, the door was opened and Saraid entered the room. She looked at them both suspiciously as she sat down by the table and asked:  
“Has something happened?”  
“No” – Coinneach answered. – “We were discussing the alliance with Lyria.”  
“Ah... a bit too late for that, don't you think?”  
“Maybe. But we should be prepared for everything.”  
“You believe, that Lyrians will do what? Attack us?”  
“Why not? I wouldn't put it past them.”  
“Are you talking about Viera now?” – she asked harshly.  
“I...” – he started to reply, but she interrupted him:  
“Because if you are, then you are delusional.”  
“She left” – Coinneach said heavily, but Saraid replied at once:  
“You drove her out of here. The spy, who you were aware of and could control. The spy, who actually meant no harm.”  
“What? Do you believe that you got to know her? Because maybe it's not me, who is delusional... And, either way, you never liked her.”

Saraid looked at him coldly and replied:  
“But she is effective and logical. If they wanted us dead, we would be dead a long time ago: all of us in this room. One way or another. She may have lied and she may be at least partially responsible for Isengrim's death, but she is not the devil you are painting her to be. And now, thanks to both of you, we lost the source of information. The source we need.”  
“And what were we suppose to do after the news from the Pass had reached us?” – Neach asked coldly.  
“Nothing. The past is in the past. Don't you understand? We don't know where she went... if she survived the road... Because if she died... Meve would be furious. The whole alliance would be worth less than nothing because she would be the first with a cause for an attack. But, you didn't care about it, did you? All you cared was...” – she said coldly, but Neach cut in strongly:  
“Don't say it.”  
“… your wounded ego.”  
“Isengrim...” – this time he started only to be interrupted:  
“… was an excuse.”  
“How...”  
“Because I was there, Neach. You shouldn't have taken her here or you should have kept her safe and sound. You failed” – Saraid finished matter-of-factly.

Coinneach didn't spare any of them another glance and he left the palace in fury. He knew well, that Saraid wasn't wrong, even if she wasn't entirely right.


	45. Viera Yule 1269

VIERA

Yule 1269  
Rastburg  
Lyria and Rivia

Viera was sitting alone at the riverbank of the Yavina, on the snow, looking ahead at the isle. The winter was especially cold and snowy this year. Exactly like the last time when she came back, she first headed back home, to her mother. On the Davlin isle she had spent two weeks, but yesterday she decided to visit her brother and Sebastian, this time, didn't have any disturbing revelations for her. Thankfully.  
On the road back home, as she rode through the kingdom of Aedirn, she was tempted to go through wilderness, forests and meadows, far from people. But, alone on the road, after the first sleepless night still in Dol Blathanna, she decided otherwise. She travelled by the main road and slept in taverns or brothels on her way. She didn't really talk to anyone – she didn't feel like doing it.  
Now, back home, she preferred to be left alone, as well. She informed Meve of her return and waited for new orders, but for now she could just... be on her own.  
“Viera?” – she heard man's voice, coming from behind her back.

Jaskier came back to Rastburg palace, as well, and was granted the hospitality of Davell family as long as he needed. He felt as if he had lost everything – what he has told her in the evening yesterday – after Geralt's death, so he accepted her brother's offer eagerly.  
“Yes?” – she asked.  
“Can I join you? It's better to be alone together” – the bard asked a bit dramatically.  
“Sure.”

He sat down next to her and announced:  
“I want to write a ballad about you.”  
“No chance, Jaskier” – she growled.  
“When you hear it, you'll change your mind” – he stated with pathos.  
“Jaskier... I highly doubt it” – she replied resignedly knowing very well, that regardless of her resistance, he'd still do it.  
“Just listen, I have the first few verses...” – he said, pulled out his lute and started:

_Paths already crossed_  
_For reasons yet unknown_  
_Bound to meet again_  
_The one or other way._

_Longing hearts and souls_  
_Separated once more_  
_Two sides of a coin_  
_Never to see the other one._

_Taking and giving_  
_Destiny, cruel one_  
_Past future is lost_  
_Future past still hidden from us._

Viera swallowed hard but managed to say ironically:  
“It's terrible. You're losing the rhythm of the rhyme. Did I say rhyme? There's none, truly.”  
“You're biased” – he replied indignantly.  
“Don't say...”  
“I have the feeling, that it will be the best one in years... maybe ever. It will open my opus magnum: _Half a Century of Poetr_ y.”  
“Actually, it's not a bad title... Not bad at all... Did you come up with it on your own?” – she asked mockingly.  
“Obviously!” – the bard exclaimed.

Viera looked at him questioningly, raising her left eyebrow. Jaskier frowned a bit, but explained:  
“All right... Regis helped a bit.”  
“Regis?” – Viera asked.  
“The higher vampire. He was travelling with us when we were looking for Ciri...”  
“What happened to him?”  
“Vilgefortz smashed him in Stygga Castle.”  
“I'm sorry, Jaskier. However... can a higher vampier be killed by a human sorcerer?”  
“The mage ripped him apart and then melted what was left of him down. Do you have any doubts?”  
“Well... I guess... no.”

Being silent wasn't bard's strongest point, so soon he started again:  
“You know... I think, that Geralt didn't like me much at the beginning...”  
“Don't say...” – Viera mocked him, but he paid her no mind:  
“But then... Then we were friends. Almost family, I guess. Losing him... I still can't believe, that he's gone.”  
“I'm sorry, Jaskier. But... he died doing the right thing.”  
“I don't even think, that he believed in this kind of bullshit.”  
“Then, we would have something in common.”  
“I believe so. He also waited years to give a name to his feelings” – Jaskier looked at her pointedly and raised his eyebrow, but Viera replied strongly:  
“Yennefer died trying to safe him. She deserved more. Much more.”  
“Well... she had her... ahem... flaws, you know?”  
“Oh, yes. You have been singing about all of them. Have you ever wondered how you're portraying women in your songs? Because you're portraying us as pure evil or vaginas. You're terribly shallow sometimes, Jaskier. But if you want to write and sing about something good and someone actually worth remembering: write about her. About them. Commemorate the truth: make their complicated but true love stronger than death. Eternal.”  
Once again they were silent only for a short while, because the bard asked:  
“Why did you truly leave, Viera?”  
“It's none of your business” – she replied coldly and stood up.

She never answered his question but in her heart she knew the answer.

_Because he deserves more. Much more._


	46. Coinneach Birke 1269

COINNEACH

Birke 1269  
Dol Blathanna

Cerayn was still lying naked on the bed. Her long, chestnut hair was beautifully scattered on the pillow and a playful smirk emerged on her full lips when she realised, that he was observing her. Coinneach got up from the chair and stood by the window. He opened it and felt a warm, spring wind on his face. Dol Blathanna was full of colourful flowers, which started to bloom only a few days ago. The scent of spring got to his nostrils and he smiled.

_The new beginning._

He lingered in the window for a while but then, he turned around and looked at Cerayn once more. There wasn't a single scar, single imperfection on her skin. She was one of the few, who looked as if the tragedy of their people didn't touch them. But it wasn't the truth. Her brother died at Brenna, serving in Iorveth's unit. Her scars were simply invisible but they were there. Always.  
Catching his eyes, she smiled again and asked:  
“Coinneach?”  
“Do you intend to get up, my dear?” – he asked in turn.  
“Why would I? I'm quite comfortable here. Will you join me?”  
“Let me close the window, then.”  
“Don't” – she said and giggled.

Unfortunately, just then, they've heard the knock on the main door. Cerayn got up and dressed but she didn't look happy. Coinneach left her and got to the door. Iorveth stood there and Coinneach recognised at once tension in his posture, but he didn't have time to ask, because the younger commander said:  
“We need to go to the palace. Now.”  
“Are we under attack?” – Neach asked quietly.  
“I don't know much more.”

When they got to the palace, the throne room was already full of people. Enid was sitting on her throne like a statue – calm and expressionless, but people around her were arguing heatedly:  
“We don't have enough men! We can't spare them to do it.”  
“But what will happen, if we don't act?”  
“Nothing. The whole idea was no more than empty words from the very beginning.”  
“Is our word worth nothing?”  
“It was kept secret. No one else would know or care about the truth.”  
“It's cynical! What if the situation was reversed? Wouldn't we count on their help?”  
“It's not. Let's not linger on hypothetical situations. But in this situation, we may be certain, that the Army will march further North and they can either leave us in peace or attack. Now, we were assured, that they will leave us in peace. After all... we were allies. But if we do anything... it will change.”  
“But the Lyrian major was here. They probably know it, wouldn't they wonder...”  
“No” – Coinneach recognised Lindon's cold voice: – “She was here as nothing more than a dh'oine whore of one of our commanders. He wanted to have fun and who were we to stop him? But he grew bored of her and she was disposed of like a used toy. And this is exactly what she really was.”

The moment Coinneach realised, who they were talking about, he felt growing anger. Usually, he was a calm man. Only extremely rarely he allowed his anger to lash out. But at this moment, he simply walked towards Lindon and hit him. Hard. On the face. The man fell to the floor at Coinneach's feet with a cry of pain. There was a fair chance, that his nose was broken. But the commander only looked down at him and drawled out:  
“Get. Out. Of. My. Sight.”

Lindon left quickly. The rest of the people in the throne room didn't dare to speak. It was Coinneach who asked calmly, looking at Filavandrel:  
“What is happening?”  
“We received news from His Imperial Majesty, Emhyr var Emreis. The Nilfgaardian Army is gathering near Sodden. They intend to attack Sodden and Dol Angra. But we all know, that if they can, they won't stop there. Meve and Foltest are preparing to meet them, it will probably happen near the river Newi.”  
“When?”  
“Soon.”  
“Is there anything...?” – Coinneach started.  
“No” – this time it was Enid, who spoke calmly. – “It has already happened.”

A dead silence followed her statement. Coinneach froze, looking at her with unseeing eyes. Filavandrel was silent for a long time, but in the end, he asked slowly:  
“How can you know?”  
“I know, Filavandrel” – she answered politely.  
“The Lodge of Sorceresses...”  
“It doesn't matter.”  
“Why didn't Meve ask for help?”  
“She did.”  
“What?!” – Coinneach asked furiously. – “Why weren't we informed, that our allies need help? She saved us, Enid!”  
“She did. In return for our help, but not against the Nilfgaardian Empire. I know what I agreed to, commander. Still, I promised to consider our assistance if her core lands were to be directly under attack. The battle took place near Newi, the border between Temerian Sodden and Lyrian Dol Angra. I've never agreed to help Foltest” – she finished definitely.

Coinneach swallowed with difficulty. His mind was blank. It was already too late to do anything. And it was Enid's fault. He calmed himself down, looked at her coldly and stated:  
“I'm leaving. This is enough.”  
“And where would you go, Coinneach? You are a wanted man and many mercenaries are only waiting for the opportunity. You'll share Isengrim's fate very soon. But before, anywhere you'll go, you'll endanger everyone around you. Didn't you understand it in Dravograd?” – Enid asked coldly. – “Dol Blathanna is your destiny.”

_No... she is. She was..._

Now, he was barely breathing before he felt Saraid's hand gently catching his. When he looked into her sad eyes, he heard another female voice. The Aen Saevherne entered the throne room unnoticed, but her calm voice was heard by everyone:  
“We can't change the past, but I'll take you there.”

Ida Emean aep Sivney looked at him with a strange sorrow in her eyes, when she opened a portal. Coinneach squeezed gently Saraid's hand but then lessened his grip, ready to let go, but she only strengthened her grip on his palm and went quickly ahead, entering the portal with him. The moment he set foot on the other side he realised that he found himself at the edge of hell. As he looked back at Ida, she only nodded and stayed behind. Coinneach and Saraid went in the direction of the river Newi, which instead of blue, was red from blood.


	47. Viera Birke 1269

VIERA

Birke 1269  
Rivia  
Lyria and Rivia

Late Birke found major Viera Davell in Rivia. Last days and months were quite the same for her. Nothing was happening and soon she couldn't tell one day from another. A year after the battle of Brenna they almost believed, that they may have peace. But she... she had this feeling...

_Calm before the storm._

That night there was a small feast in the Rivian castle. Meve and her son, Vilem, invited their most trusted advisors for a meal, which was supposed to be an informal celebration of peace. There were about forty people in formal attire in the dining room. Among them was Keira Metz, who has only recently agreed to become Meve's mage and advisor. The sorceress was wearing a long, scarlet dress with such a deep cleavage, that no one could look her in the eyes while talking to her. Literally no one. Viera herself was very happy that she could show herself in her uniform, instead of a dress. She was never a fan of dresses.  
They were all sitting by the dinner in the grand dining room of Rivian castle. Viera was lucky to be seated next to Reynard, who was just saying:  
“We must make sure, that news from our borders reaches us immediately. The speed is of the essence.”  
“I agree” – she replied and added: – “Keira's xenovoxes are going to help us with it. This is why...” – but she never finished.

Suddenly, the door burst open and a sorceress entered the room at a fast pace, heading to Keira and Meve. As she approached, Keira greeted her:  
“Sabrina, what is going on?”

Sabrina Glevissig, famous mage of the Kaedweni court, stated with terror in her voice and features:  
“Dol Blathanna was attacked yesterday by Demawend's and Henselt's armies. I didn't know what those fools were planning until Henselt called me to Francesca's palace. He said, that she is dead. Lord Filavandrel aén Fidháil and most of the commanders were executed, too. It was a massacre. Slaughter. Dol Blathanna is in blood and flames. The inhabitants were murdered or fled to the Mountains, but those idiots intend to pursue them. This is genocide. I... someone needs to do something!”

At first, no one replied. For a while, the Rivian court was too bewildered to react. Then, Viera stood up, accidentally knocking over her chair in the process. The sound woke the rest up and many stood up, as well. Meve took a deep breath and asked:  
“Are you saying, that it's already done? There was no indication, that...!” – but she trailed off.  
“Henselt and Demawend pretended, that they are going to have a war over Lormark. Henselt even had me making plans for the battle... I... I even reassured Francesca...” – Sabrina swallowed hard and continued in a stronger voice: – “But it was only a distraction. Now, I believe, that Demawend promised to forget Lormark in return for Henselt's help in Dol Blathanna. The elves... they were attacked without a warning... they...”

Sabrina Glevissig was known for many things. She was one of the heroes of the battle at the Sodden Hill. She was a wild beauty with typical, Kaedweni temperament: hot-headed and quick to judge. She was loyal to the kingdom of Kaedwen, probably more than a sorceress should be. She was also one of the first to fight against the Scoia'tael. She had no love for elves and she was rumoured to hate Francesca Findabair. She was even rumoured to hate Yennefer of Vengerberg for no more than her neutrality. But now, the same Sabrina Glevissig – the Fiery Jade of Ard Carraigh – was crying.  
There was dead silence in the room. For a long time, no one was able to move, even to speak. To Viera, the news was coming in waves. She approached the Kaedweni sorceress and asked:  
“Did you say, that they intended to pursue those, who escaped?”  
“Yes” – Sabrina answered, trying to keep her voice steady.  
“Then, we must go. Meve?”  
“Yes. I'm coming with you. I'll try... I'll try...” – Meve couldn't even find words, so Viera said:  
“Just give me time. Go straight to the palace. All right?”  
“Yes. I'll buy you time. Sabrina, Keira?”  
“We'll open portals.”  
“How many can you teleport?”  
“Five-six people in one.”  
“All right. Only volunteers.”

Viera looked at Reynard, who have already been walking in Meve's direction and shook her head. He looked at her questioningly, so she explained:  
“It won't be pretty, Reynard. There will be an argument and we don't know what will happen next. Stay with Vilem and prepare the army. I'll take my men and we'll try to lead the survivors through the Mountains, but Demawend and Henselt may follow. With their armies.”  
“Do you think...?” – he started slowly and she cut in with the answer:  
“I think, that nothing is impossible any more. They committed genocide. What will stop them from one more?”

Meve looked at both of them with a blank expression before she said:  
“Reynard, inform Foltest of Temeria and Hedwig of Redania about the events... And Bran an Tuirseach from Skellige... Vilem, you will contact... the Nilfgaardian ambassador. Let him know, that we find it outrageous, but we won't allow Nilfgaardians to cross Yaruga in the disguise of help for the Aen Seidhe. This is the matter of Northern Kingdoms and we alone will settle it.”  
“Settle?” – Viera asked in a blank voice. – “How do you want to settle this genocide?”  
“I won't risk peace we have, Viera. Not for something, what is already done. You know, as well as I do, that they won't pay for this. This terrible deed will go unpunished. The only thing we can do is to help those who survived. Nothing more, major. Do you understand?” – Meve asked strongly.

Viera started to shake with anger. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hit something or even better to kill someone. But, looking in the dark and cold eyes of the Queen – her Queen and her friend... – she abandoned justice and everything she believed in. She forsook what was right and chose what was easy. That day in Rivian castle, she agreed to be the person she so desperately didn't want to be in one simple gesture – she nodded.


	48. Coinneach Birke 1269

COINNEACH

Birke 1269  
riverbank of the Newi  
Dol Angra

Coinneach suspected, that this was the reason why Menno Coehoorn did everything he could have done at Brenna to spare the core of the Nilfgaardian army. This was probably also the reason, why Ardal aep Dahy did the same in the East. Emhyr var Emreis intended to attack Nordlings again within a year from signing the Peace Treaty of Cintra. He never actually intended to keep his part of the deal regarding Sodden and Dol Angra. He wanted to have all the lands South from Yaruga under his rule and he wanted it now.  
This year's attack was even swifter than the last. For the new war, the Emperor needed new generals because most of the ones who took part in the last war died in the North or were executed later in Nilfgaard. Coinneach could only guess, that this time Emhyr probably chose younger commanders, more trustworthy, more afraid of His Imperial Majesty, but still experienced enough to lead the great Nilfgaardian Army. Together they prepared a war swift and destructive like a tornado.  
The rulers of the Northern kingdoms did what they could in such a short time, but Temerian and Lyrian and Rivian armies had no chance against Nilfgaardian force gathered on one front in Sodden and Dol Angra. They were caught by surprise, outnumbered and unprepared. But who would be able to prepare for such an attack?  
The forces met in battle by the river in Dol Angra and Coinneach arrived at the place long after the battle was over. As he stood at the riverbank of the Newi, he saw the sea of dead soldiers. Most of them were wearing Temerian or Lyrian colours, but many Nilfgaardians had fallen here, too. In his heart, Coinneach knew that Viera had been here and that she was dead. He also knew, that this was far from a good idea, but still – with Saraid at his side – he walked in the direction of Nilfgaardian tents which were located maybe half a mile from the battlefield. The sentinels stopped them at the main entrance, but recognising two former officers of the Vrihedd Brigade, they allowed them into the camp. There, he was soon led to the tent of the marshal and commander of Alba Division, Morvran Voorhis. Morvran recognised him at once and greeted him hesitatingly:  
“Commander? We didn't expect you here.”  
“General, I know. I'm looking for someone” – Coinneach replied.  
“Oh? Here? Strange...”  
“Indeed. I...” – he started, but the Nilfgaardian interrupted him:  
“I suspect who you're looking for. We received very strange news about your stay in Rastburg palace half a year ago. You're looking for major Viera Davell, the famous Manticore.”  
“Yes. Did you find her?” – he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.  
“Lyrian Cavalry under general Reynard Odo fought hard and almost stopped us. They were the last to stand on the battlefield on their side, but it wasn't enough. She's dead, commander.”  
“Are you sure? Did you complete the search?”

For a split of a second, Morvran looked at him with tension clearly visible in his features before he replied:  
“Forget her, commander. She is dead. I'm sure of it.”

Coinneach felt a shiver of fear going down his spine. The way the Nilfgaardian said it could only mean, that...

_No... She wouldn't let them... She knew the risk... the..._

He didn't move or speak, but the horror he was feeling must have been obvious, because the Nilfgaardian general looked at him stoically and stated:  
“Go home, commander.”  
“What happened to her?” – Coinneach demanded harshly.  
“You really don't want to know.”  
“I've just asked.”  
“All right” – Morvran paused. – “She was taken alive. Badly injured, but alive. This was her mistake, but she couldn't really help it. Do you want to hear, what happened next... or can you imagine? She did die, but it was... sometime after the battle.”

Coinneach closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Bigger part of his mind refused to believe, that she was gone. But this... he wasn't sure if he could take it. His distress must have been obvious again because Morvran asked:  
“Commander, are you all right?”  
“Where is she now?” – Coinneach inquired further, disregarding the question, but he felt as if he was in a trance.  
“Her corpse was left on the battlefield, with the rest.”  
“I want someone to show me its location. She'll have a proper burial, she won't rot in this gods' forsaken place.”  
“You don't want to...” – the Nilfgaardian started again, but he interrupted him harshly:  
“Don't tell me what I want or don't want to do.”

Morvran Voorhis nodded shortly and called one of his men. The young soldier led Coinneach and Saraid to the verge of the sea of dead bodies. There, one body was covered by a black blanket. The only thing, which Coinneach was able to recognise, was her raven-black, short and now dishevelled, covered in blood hair. As Coinneach fell to his knees next to her body, he felt bitter sobs escaping his chest. Saraid disappeared but soon she came back with a torch.

_Viera... I'm so sorry._

Coinneach couldn't talk but he barely nodded his head. Saraid made a few stops towards Viera's body and lighted it. Then, she sat down next to him and stayed with him until the fire died out. Coinneach was only able to look at the fire absent-mindedly and force his own lungs to breathe. Still, every breath felt like an effort.  
After a time, which felt like an eternity, he stood up and said to Saraid:  
“I need to get to Rastburg and on Davlin as soon as possible.”  
“You want to save Sebastian and the rest of Davells, don't you?” – she asked with determination.  
“Yes. And Meve with her family, if I can. Are you coming with me?” – Coinneach asked quickly and Saraid agreed at once:  
“Yes. Ida will open another portal for us and from Lyria we'll lead them to the Blue Mountains. They won't die. Not like this.”

They looked at each other with determination and headed back to Ida at a fast pace. Coinneach knew, that they didn't have time. But, as they walked towards Ida, he stumbled upon the rock and the feeling of falling down overwhelmed him completely.


	49. Viera Birke 1269

VIERA

Birke 1269  
Dol Blathanna

The moment Viera left the portal, she smelled the distinctive stink of burning flesh and hair. As she looked around she realised, that the field surrounding the main city of Dol Blathanna was full of both: fire and dead bodies. Everything was on fire and in blood. Blood of hundreds, maybe thousands of elves, regardless of age and gender...  
She started to shake violently. She was used to battlefields, but this... no... This was a massacre. Something far beyond anything she could understand. It was too much. Soon, Viera realised, that there are still things she hadn't seen or imagined. She noticed piles. The forest of dozens of piles and... Seidhe impaled on them. She started to walk that way in a trance, not hearing or seeing anything else.  
A few dozens of steps later, she recognised him... Coinneach... Obviously, he was stripped of everything, including his ears... and...

_No..._

The Lyrian major fell to her knees, hid her eyes behind her hands and started to sob hysterically. Her mind shut down everything but this pain. Pain, which was taking her breath away and which almost stopped her heart from beating.

_Neach... I'm so sorry._

It was after a time, which seemed like an eternity, when she heard male voices:  
“Elven whore!”  
“Yes, elven whore!”  
“Who would weep for those scum but elven whore?!”  
“Let's play with her, she looks... fuckable...”  
“That's enough!”

The voice, which stopped soldiers' debate, belonged to Sabrina Glevissig. The sorceress, who must have followed her here, now whispered in her ear:  
“It's not safe for you here. Come, I'll take you home.”

But Viera found her voice, mostly thanks to the rage building up in her and stated:  
“Burn them all.”  
“What?” – Sabrina asked.  
“Burn the Aen Seidhe, they won't rot here. Then, leave.”  
“Viera...”  
“Do what I said.”

The sorceress indeed burned the forest of piles. The smell of burning flesh almost suffocated her, but Viera only unsheathed her sword and looked intently at Sabrina. The sorceress whispered:  
“It was self-defence” – and left her with five Kaedweni soldiers.

The rush of adrenaline allowed her to forget for a while. She welcomed it with open arms. Also the fear, which came, when she killed the first soldier and had four men now attacking her at the same time. But the adrenaline lasted only as long as Kaedweni were alive...

_They've died too soon and too easily._

Viera turned away from bodies of Kaedweni soldiers lying at her feet and walked slowly towards the city, leaving imprints of her jackboots in soil and sand soaked with blood. As she reached the stairs of the palace, she found herself shocked again. They weren't snow-white any more – they were scarlet-brown. In the colour left by blood spilt on them yesterday.

_What signs these shall be, I say unto you: first the earth will flow with the blood of Aen Seidhe, the Blood of Elves..._

She has been inside the palace only once during her stay in Dol Blathanna, at lord Filavandrel's invitation. The interior was marvellous, beautiful beyond anything she had ever seen before. But today it made a different impression on her: it was cold. Cold, white stones, covered with splashes of blood. It wasn't even beautiful any more.

_There may be no beauty after genocide._

In the throne room, king Demawend was sitting on the throne which didn't belong to him. His figure was ridiculously ugly and small, far from fitting the throne he took. But he knew it – he couldn't find himself a place, while he was talking to Meve. As Viera approached them, she saw bodies lying on the floor at Meve's feet. She didn't have much trouble recognising them: it was Enid aen Gleanna, the Duchess of Dol Blathanna and Filavandrel aén Fidháil, the king of Free Aen Seidhe. Viera realised, that their bodies weren't given a rest even after they died.

_Disgusting monsters, subhumans, not even worth to be called dh'oine by any of them._

Viera thought, looking with contempt at Aedirnians and Kaedweni who were standing in the throne room. The conversation Meve was having with Demawend only reached her after a time – after her rage turned into cold hate:  
“You have what you wanted, Demawend. Leave the refugees alone to their own fate. Call back the trackers” – Meve demanded coldly, but the man replied:  
“Why, my dear Meve? Why don't get rid of this plague once and for all...”  
“You've committed genocide, Demawend. Isn't it enough for you? Aren't you satisfied with the elven blood you've already spilt?”  
“Maybe... You have become soft, Meve. A few years ago you wanted to deal with the Scoia'tael problem yourself and I doubt, that you wanted to do it pretty.”  
“But most of the people living in Dol Blathanna were not Scoia'tael!” – Meve exclaimed with cold fury, but Demawend replied in a bored voice:  
“I know... but they may become them in the future. Now... we are certain, that they won't.”

Meve turned around, trying to hide her fury. The White Queen then noticed Viera and looked at her intently. The Lyrian major nodded and left the palace. She almost closed her eyes and ears, as she was leaving this cursed place and heading in the direction of the Blue Mountains. She wasn't sure, how to do what she wanted to do next. She needed to lead the rest of Aen Seidhe to Lyria and Rivia, far from Demawend's hunters, but she needed to do it in absolute secrecy. She knew that it wasn't an easy task and that she had little to no time, so she ran in the direction of Lower Posada, but she didn't notice a tree-root on her way. She stumbled on it and started to fall down violently.


	50. Meve Velen 1268

Witcher book series related characters, places and themes belong to Andrzej Sapkowski. The Witcher games related characters, places and themes belong to CD Projekt Red. Characters, places and themes related to other works, especially by J.R.R. Tolkien and George R.R. Martin, belong to their authors or legal successors.

THE LYRIAN TALES

PART III

THE CHOICE

MEVE

Velen 1268  
Rastburg  
Lyria and Rivia

_Truly, I say, who believes in dreams is like one who wants to catch the wind or is grasping at shadows. Fooled by deceptive images in a curved mirror that lies or speak nonsense like a woman in labour. It is a fool indeed who gives faith to the dream and walks the path of deception._   
_But he who pays no mind to dreams and doesn't believe them at all, also wisely does not. Why, if dreams would not have any meaning, would the gods gift us the ability to dream?_

_Prophet Lebioda's Wisdom, 34: 1_

~ _The Lady of the Lake_ by Andrzej Sapkowski


	51. Viera Velen 1268

VIERA

Velen 1268  
Rastburg  
Lyria and Rivia

Viera woke up suddenly and sat up at once. She felt tears under her eyelids as she looked nervously around her.

_Where the fuck am I?_

Then, she felt a movement next to her and noticed Coinneach, who also just woke up. For a second her mind started to whirl and she felt, that she is hyperventilating.

_He's... He is...! What the fuck?! Thank gods, he's alive..._

Soon, she noticed two tears falling down from his eyes when he looked at her. He had trouble breathing, as well, but he was breathing slower with every breath he took until he whispered in disbelief:  
“It was just a dream...”  
“Yes” – she replied. – “I should have known.”  
“How? Mine was so...” – he trailed off, but she knew what he wanted to say:  
“… real?”  
“Yes.”  
“Mine too. But... no one is so perfect. It's boring” – she stated very seriously.

As her reply got to him, he started to laugh almost hysterically... and she joined him. She laid back down and tried to catch her breath in between the laughs for a long time feeling, that he was doing just the same. When they both calmed down, she added:  
“And you, Coinneach Da Réo, are many things: you are a cheater and a liar. I also believe that you desperately want to live in a dream or at least to pursue one – a hopeless one preferably – for the rest of your days, but you are not boring.”  
“While, I believe that you are much too cold, ruthless and pragmatic to be so adorable” – he replied quietly.  
“I do hope so. Adorable is not my favourite adjective. However... you are most certainly adorable.”

They laughed hard again. The tension and pressure of the terrible night were slowly wearing off. After a time of silence, he asked:  
“So, who are you, if not the person I've dreamed of?”  
“I'm tempted to say, that I'm the opposite, but I do hope, that at least you didn't imagine me silly” – she replied and looked at him pointedly.  
“No, I didn't. Even some of your sarcasm stayed intact.”  
“Well... then, I'm just not that person. I'm most certainly not the woman of your dreams, Neach.”

He was silent again for a long time but then he asked in no more than a whisper:  
“What happened to Isengrim in Dillingen or later? Is he alive?”  
“I wasn't...” – she started in her normal voice but trailed off realising, that her throat was clenching almost painfully.

So, she rolled to her stomach slowly and observed him for a long time from above.

_Truth? Is it truth time? Shall I tell him everything? No, I can't. Come on! It's stupid... But... if the dream was a warning..._

Viera decided to stall and inquired:  
“Neach... what was your dream about?”  
“Well... a lot of very different things... but mostly about you. Us. It warned me...” – this time he trailed off.  
“Against what?” – she insisted and he answered reluctantly:  
“That destiny cannot be just used or... forgotten.”  
“Oh... so you wanted to use me? What for, if I may ask?”  
“The obvious, I'm afraid.”  
“Sex? Gods... it's not very creative...” – she replied disappointedly and Coinneach stated a bit coldly:  
“Funny” – he paused before he inquired: – “And you? What was your dream about?”  
“The same, I'm afraid.”  
“And you're calling me not very creative? Or... what did you want to use me for?” – he asked suspiciously and she replied in a heavy voice:  
“Spying.”  
“I...” – his face fell considerably and he clenched his jaw before he asked coldly: – “You're calling me a liar? And a cheater? You wanted to fuck me to spy on my people!”  
“Yes. I did” – she whispered, looking at him intently, as he asked harshly:  
“Did?”  
“I'm a fast learner. In my dream... everything fell apart. You died, Neach! I... It's not what I wish for. Not any more...”  
“Not any more? That's probably too much honesty in the morning after sex, don't you think?” – he asked in a voice full of different emotions but she still replied asking sarcastically:  
“Did you prefer me when I lied? I can go back to it quite easily if you wish.”  
“I preferred you when you didn't want to kill me!”  
“Well... it was just a dream, we've already established that” – she said coldly and he got up from the bed to reach for his clothes.

She was looking at him for a time and sighed. He had no right to be angry now. Or maybe... a little bit, but he still had no right to throw this tantrum. If they were to work together to prevent what had happened in their dreams... it couldn't look like this, so she called him strongly:  
“Neach.”

But he paid her no mind, still putting on his clothes. She got up from the bed as well and stood in front of him, as he buttoned his shirt, but he still pretended, that she wasn't there, so she stated:  
“You're acting like a child, who is throwing a tantrum.”  
“Really? You just confessed to first planning to kill me, then to use me and spy on me. Is it truly a tantrum?” – he asked angrily, but Viera replied coldly:  
“I told you the whole truth. Don't make me regret it.”

His eyes met hers for a moment and he breathed heavier just before he looked down on her naked body. Then, Coinneach closed his eyes and stated:  
“Put something on. I can't think as long as you're like this.”  
“Like what?” – she asked teasingly.  
“You like torturing me, don't you?”  
“I do.”  
“Can you...?” – he trailed off, shaking his head, so Viera asked:  
“What?”  
“Stop telling me the truth?” – he asked resignedly and she laughed, asking:  
“Really?”  
“Gods... you're the first person I know, who makes truth so hard, you know?”  
“Haven't you been angry just a moment ago, because I was lying to you? Here I am: not lying any more and you still don't like it. You know... you're right. Just go to Dol Blathanna, we can never make it work. Not with you expecting me to be someone I'm not. I'm not a doll, Neach. I know what you've imagined in your dream: a pleaser. A woman who does exactly what you want and how you want it and you don't even need to ask. She's just... doing what pleases you on her own: a perfect, little pleaser” – she paused, looked at his confused face and continued: – “You're hardly unique in this wish and hardly impressive. A willing doll is like a slave, but doesn't make you feel bad about it. It's easy... and easy fuck is what you want, but even more, you want someone who will always make you feel better about yourself. Any relationship is about you, after all. Am I wrong?” – she asked coldly at the end but didn't wait for his reply.

Instead, Viera reached for her clothes and started to dress up, as well. She heard him sitting down in the chair heavily, but she didn't look at him until he asked:  
“Are you always so opinionated?”

Now she felt rage building up in her as she looked back at him, but Coinneach has already been chuckling softly and looked at her warmly. So, she replied almost politely:  
“Fuck you.”  
“All right” – he nodded and added: – “But I still believe, that a relationship is about making each other feel better. But... you're right: there are always two people in it. So... I got your message. Tell me the truth all you want, if it makes you feel better.”  
“Well... the last time, as I didn't, you died along with most of the people you know and Dol Blathanna was lost again. I and my kingdom, on the other hand, ended up just fine. Is it really about me in your opinion?” – she asked with irritation.

Then, she turned around and continued dressing up in silence.


	52. Coinneach Velen 1268

COINNEACH

Velen 1268  
Rastburg  
Lyria and Rivia

Coinneach observed Viera with a heavy heart as she was dressing up. Not only because he liked her much better naked... That too, but not mostly. Mostly because he understood, that it's always bittersweet... With her it was just more... extreme.

_But she was also painfully right, wasn't she?_

He was thinking about himself. She... she was the one who brought up their main problem: the storm was coming for all of them and she was worried. Their dreams turned out to be two sides of the same coin, again. In his dream, the kingdom of Lyria and Rivia was close to being attacked and she died trying to prevent it. In hers, the situation was reversed and she wanted to prevent it, still. Even if preventing one of the scenarios, could lead to the other. So, he spoke again:  
“Viera.”  
“Don't 'Viera' me” – she barked.  
“But it is your name. How...” – he started, but she barked again:  
“Don't taunt me.”  
“Gods... can I say anything?”  
“You could say many things ten minutes ago. Now, I'm leaving.”  
“The problem with making mistakes in the past is that you cannot unmake them” – he said stoically in the end, but she only mocked him:  
“How brilliant of you.”  
“Do you want me to apologise?”  
“No.”  
“All right... I'll start with the truth, then.”  
“Don't bother.”  
“There's a way to invalidate Emhyr's marriage to the false Cirilla. There is a way to try to take back Cintra for Northern Kingdoms, so Emhyr won't have a place to prepare the invasion to the East. He would be forced to retreat back beyond the mountains.”

This got to her. Viera had already put her hand on the handle, but removed it and looked at him questioningly. Then, she huffed and stated:  
“I know. I've kind of heard it before. In my dream. Gods... then it was all true...”  
“Well... it looks that way, yes” – Coinneach replied slowly.  
“Isengrim... Angus Bri Cri and Riordan... well it's not easy for me to say, Neach. Temerians, who were responsible for guarding you before you got to the warehouse, were bribed. Mercenaries got to them before my soldiers could stop it, as they did with Redanians, who tried to drag you away. Jon Natalis told me, that Isengrim had escaped from the port and as far as I know, no one has seen him since that day in Dillingen. I agreed to search for him, but... I believed that it's not my problem, so I didn't really intend to” – she finished quietly.  
“I see.”  
“I... I know, that he's your friend, but still... alone... There wasn't much I could do.”  
“But we were told, that he died in that fight, which probably wasn't a fight at all! I...” – Coinneach trailed off in disbelief but she said at once:  
“I'm sorry.”  
“A lone Seidhe is a dead Seidhe. He is probably...” – he started in a whisper, but Viera cut in:  
“No, Neach. If anyone found him and managed to kill him – everyone would know. It would be quite a kill.”  
“You're talking about my friend, fellow commander.”  
“But it's the truth and it gives us hope.”  
“Us?”  
“Don't you want me to help you? I know people.”  
“I... guess. OK.”  
“And...” – she hesitated and looked down.  
“Yes?” – he asked, but he was afraid, that he has already known what she would say. And he was right, because she whispered:  
“There was a pogrom in Rivia not long ago. I... Rivian soldiers didn't react quick enough. Many Aen Seidhe and dwarfs died that day... and Geralt of Rivia along with Yennefer of Vengerberg.”  
“I've kind of heard it... Now, I understand why Jaskier was so sad... But Gwynbleidd was known to be an extraordinary warrior. Who could kill him?”  
“Some peasant from the mob... Geralt stood against attacking humans, trying to protect... But he was alone and he was fighting against the mob. I'm sorry, Coinneach.”  
“You should be.”  
“You believe us to be the only one responsible for it, don't you?” – she asked quietly and sighed.  
“Aren't you?! You, dh'oine. It was your people, who killed innocents!”  
“Yes, but it was a retaliation. It didn't come out of the blue. You were occupying this kingdom with Nilfgaardians for a year... and the news of your actions in Aedirn reached Rivia, as well. Along with the news of your release.”  
“So, is it my fault?”  
“No, Neach. We are all at fault. Me and you, too. We didn't do enough to stop this madness.”  
“I hate your truthfulness. I really do” – he said angrily and she replied calmly:  
“I know. But there are still tragedies, which can be prevented. Starting with finding Isengrim and making sure, that he won't die. Then... well... then I think, that we need to start a war” – Viera stated pensively and he asked with surprise:  
“A war?”  
“Yes. We need to ensure peace on your Southern border and we need troops to fight Nilfgaard and to push them South, beyond the Mountains. We need Demawend's kingdom and men.”  
“You have grandiose plans, do you know it? Quite deadly plans, too.”  
“I do know, still... I don't see any other way.”

They were looking at each other in silence for a long time, breathing heavily. But, in the end, Viera spoke:  
“I'm not sure how much of it we should tell anyone... I know, that you would like to consult it with lord Filavandrel before revealing the truth about Cintran marriage to Meve. And without this... Meve won't be willing to even think about attacking Demawend. So... I suggest we start with Isengrim, then Dol Blathanna. From there someone would need to open the portal for us back to Rivia.”  
“Agreed. And Isengrim is probably on his way to the Elskerdeg Pass... This is where he died in my dream and it makes sense: we always intended to run beyond the Blue Mountains, if we needed to disappear completely” – Neach replied pensively.  
“OK. In my dream, most of the things made sense as well, but for... The sylvan. Do you know any sylvan?”  
“Yes, Torque. He lives in Dol Blathanna...”  
“Ah... well... How could I know that? Maybe Jaskier's song just turned into this... Devil in my dream.”  
“He's not a Devil.”  
“I know. He was more polite to me than anyone else there...”  
“Anyone? Including me?” – he asked with surprise, but she chuckled and answered:  
“No, Neach. You were perfect and adorable.”  
“So, you too have a... preference, don't you? It wasn't just me imagining a perfect woman. You imagined a perfect man, too” – he stated matter-of-factly and Viera replied pensively:  
“Obviously. He learned everything about me in a week and he knew exactly what to do to do it right. Was he a pleaser? I don't know, probably. But more importantly: he just took his time to know me... However... well... he was created by my imagination, so he didn't need to put any effort into it.”

Coinneach observed her intently for a time before he asked:  
“Is it so simple?”  
“Simple? No, Neach. It takes years and in the real world... people still make mistakes. It is the past and the vision of the future they want to share, what keeps people together. In my dream... we didn't have it. It would never work in a long-term” – Viera answered slowly and sat down on the bed. – “But the sex was good” – she added chuckling.

But he realised at once, that the chuckle was only masking her true feelings. He knew it, because he had them, too. Viera was right about everything. In a way, he wanted the same. He didn't know, as she didn't, if he wanted it with her. And he was fully aware, that many things were separating them and they would need to find a way over most of them, but at least one thing... One thing they could have together. A new future, which they could build on the past future and mistakes they both made in their dreams. They couldn't go back in time and change the real past, but they could create something completely new now, so he said:  
“Aedirn.”  
“What?” – she asked, looking at him with surprise.  
“Dol Blathanna is the home waiting for me, but it'll never be your home. Lyria is yours, but it won't be mine. But Aedirn... In Aedirn we can build something, what has never been built before: the kingdom without prejudice and not belonging to any of our races but belonging to all. And we can do it together. It's the only way.”  
“Do you want to meet me halfway?” – she asked softly, with warmness and hesitation.

After her question, Coinneach gasped. This voice... wasn't like anything he has ever heard before. Not in their real world and not in his dream. This woman in front of him... was someone he truly wanted to get to know, so he replied in a warm voice:  
“Yes, Viera. I do.”  
“Are you saying it only because you want to fuck me now?” – she asked suspiciously, but he chuckled and answered:  
“No, but I think, that you've already guessed it. What doesn't mean... that I don't want to make love with you... sometime in the near future.”  
“Hmm...” – she started slowly, but smiled and added: – “I agree, then. And I promise not to spy on you without your knowledge, OK?”  
“OK. That's enough for me.”

After this conversation, they both headed to baths. Together.


	53. Iorveth Velen 1268

IORVETH

Velen 1268  
Rastburg  
Lyria and Rivia

It was an early morning, as Iorveth was sitting alone in baths of the Rastburg palace and was trying not to think about anything at all. But at least one thought was haunting him...

_It's hard not to like this place... It even somehow reminds me of Aen Seidhe architecture... I can't stop wondering about it... And Her – Coinneach's woman of surprise... or false and lying bitch..._

But Iorveth tried not to pay it too much attention. He laid comfortably in the bath and stretched. Then, he heard the sound of the door and looked there.

_Thinking of the devil..._

Viera Davell entered baths with Coinneach at her side. They walked closely next to each other, brushing from time to time with ease.

_He fucked her... or was it another way around?_

They were talking about something and were so occupied with each other, that they didn't even realise, that they weren't alone in the baths. As they undressed, Iorveth started to wonder where it would lead, so he stated mockingly:  
“Spare me the view, I was just leaving.”

Coinneach and Viera turned around quickly. He raised his eyebrows, but she froze for a second. Iorveth had time to look at her naked body and to his displeasure he decided, that she was indeed beautiful enough. Not in Aen Seidhe way, but... fuckable. As he was watching her, she turned to Neach and whispered something to him, before they both came his way and joined him in the big, main bath. Then, Iorveth asked:  
“You're not so prude, are you?” – looking at the dh'oine.  
“No, I'm not. Should I be?” – she asked bluntly.  
“You're a dh'oine.”  
“I'm an inh'eid” – she replied and paused for a second, frowning with surprise, before she added: – “Do you believe, that I have something to be ashamed of?”  
“I guess not” – he answered and inquired further: – “To what do I owe the displeasure, then?”  
“Displeasure? Are you offended by my company, fraere?” – Coinneach asked a bit teasingly.  
“No, but hers... well... Go to fuck her somewhere else, Neach” – Iorveth answered, but the woman had a reply ready:  
“We're taking a break. Now, there is something we need to tell you.”  
“Me?”  
“Yes, Iorveth.”  
“Did I allow you to call me by my name?”  
“No, but you will.”  
“Are you a Seer, luned?”  
“No. But I've dreamed about you. In my dream... you almost shot me dead, but you shot nonetheless. You were yourself again” – the woman stated with determination and Iorveth was only able to narrow his eyes dangerously and to ask harshly:  
“What, the fuck, are you talking about?!”  
“Let us finish” – Coinneach joined their not-so-polite conversation and started a very long tale, which was then completed by this strange, irritating... inh'eid...

_All right, Viera... you were also irritatingly right..._

Iorveth decided, because after she was finished, he called her by her name, as well:  
“So you, Viera, believe that we can save Isengrim and Dol Blathanna and get Aedirn. At least... let's say: part of it.”  
“Yes” – she replied and ginned: – “But first... you are coming with us to the forest and you are shooting arrows as long as you need to actually forget that you have only one eye. We need you at the top of your game. And... no one else can know the story for now. For now, it's only the three of us.”  
“So why did you tell me?”  
“You know why, fraere... You must go on” – Coinneach stated with determination.

Iorveth looked at both of them questioningly – as if they've lost their minds – for a while, but then... Then he lost his, too, because he said:  
“All right. Let's do this.”

They all left baths in haste, headed to the stables and later to the forest. Iorveth has broken his own bow a few days after he woke up with the injury. He had been sure, that he'd never shoot again, but there he was: in the forest near Rastburg palace, with bow and arrows in his hands. But he couldn't... he still couldn't pull the string. After maybe quarter of an hour, to Iorveth's uttermost surprise, Coinneach decided:  
“I'm going back. I'll leave you to it” – and mounted his stallion.

Iorveth was looking at his back bewildered but heard Viera's voice:  
“You know, I could be a target again, if you wish. But, I think that it isn't necessarily. It's only me and you now.”  
“What are you proposing?” – he asked, looking at her attentively.  
“Not this” – she replied and chuckled. – “I'm saying that I'm no one to you. And I don't really care whether you shoot again or not, I just wanted to help Neach out. I know, that he worries about you, but I couldn't care less. In the matter of fact... I was the one, who actually supported the plan, which intended to execute you all in Dillingen. You're all murderers, war criminals...”

The last sentence did it. All of Iorveth's muscles acted instinctively. He raised the long-bow, put an arrow and pulled the string. Then, he breathed out and let it go in Viera's direction. After the first one flew, he shot another and the third one. Later, he started to shake from many strange emotions now invading his mind, but it was nothing in comparison with Viera. She was standing, facing him, but he saw, that she was shaking violently and closed her eyes. Her jaw was clenched and all of her features turned into horror, but... she didn't move. Seeing her like this... he wasn't exactly sure why, but he lowered the bow and looked down. Later, he heard her calm voice and looked up to meet two blue orbs:  
“I'm sorry. I needed to get you angry. This was the only way to make you react instinctively... And your instinct is to kill. I'm sorry.”  
“You were taunting me...” – Iorveth said coldly.  
“Yes.”  
“But it doesn't mean, that you haven't meant what you said. Have you?” – he asked angrily.

For a time they were just standing, facing each other. Viera's face turned into a pensive frown and she took a few deep breaths, but she spoke in the end:  
“The bow you're using... It belonged to another Scoia'tael commander, Eldain. We took it after he died in Caedva Gaenvid. There and then, Meve said, that the circle must end. That enough blood had been spilt on both sides of this pointless war we were fighting. And she was right” – the major paused, looked at him sorrowfully and added: – “We are all murderers and there's no running away from it. One way or another, we'll all atone for our deeds. So, I judge you exactly as I judge myself.”

Iorveth was observing her for a long time in silence. He wanted to be angry at her, to argue with what she just said, but he couldn't. Viera smiled sadly and asked:  
“Do you want me to leave and to find Toruviel? I know, that she'll be a much better company for what you'll want to do after the first arrow actually hits the target. It'll take some time, but you'll be able to do it.”  
“No, stay. I'm starting to believe, that you may be a good company, as well” – he replied teasingly.  
“No, Iorveth. I've said it already.”  
“Hmm... so you intend to be what? Faithful to him? Do you believe, that he'll do the same?”  
“We haven't talked about it, but still it's none of your business” – she paused, looked at him and continued: – “I'm just fucked enough for today.”

They both laughed after her statement. Gods... Iorveth haven't laughed for a very long time but here he was: laughing with a dh'oine... inh'eid... whatever... But Viera stayed, indeed and after a few more tries he was shooting as he had been before. And she didn't do or say anything but she was there and it was enough.

Obviously, an hour later, just after breakfast, he found Toruviel and he had fun as he hasn't had in months. Toru was relived, he could feel it. He even felt, that she was sobbing when she laid her head on his chest, but he decided not to talk about it. It was better to leave it in the past. Now, it was all about the future.


	54. Meve Velen 1268

MEVE

Velen 1268  
Rastburg  
Lyria and Rivia

After breakfast, Meve sat down at the table in the garden. It was autumn and it was quite cold outside, but she needed fresh air. Viera joined her soon and asked:  
“Are you... a believer now?” – looking at Prophet Lebioda's Wisdom, laying in front of her on the table.  
“Not really, but this is relaxing” – Meve replied and smiled.  
“Oh... OK” – the younger woman sat down next to her and continued: – “Meve... when you go back to Rivia... don't send your army home.”  
“Why?” – she asked with worry.  
“We may need them. I believe, that Emhyr var Emreis doesn't intend to keep the peace. We must be ready.”  
“Did he tell you something?” – the Queen asked, looking intently at Viera who understood who she was asking about at once and replied:  
“Not exactly... I can't talk about it just yet, but trust me.”  
“I do trust you.”  
“I know... and I may come with Francesca Findabair to Rivia. In a month or so.”  
“You're planning something.”  
“Yes. Something big, but I need time.”  
"Coinneach Da Réo?"  
“I... don't know” – the young woman paused, sighed and continued: – “He's not the man I believed him to be nor the one I wish he was. It's complicated...”  
“Isn't it always?” – Meve asked with a smirk.

Viera scrutinised her for a moment before she asked:  
“What are you saying?”  
“I'm saying, that there are many ways in which we can develop relations with Dol Blathanna” – the Queen replied.  
“OK. Thank you. I'll be careful.”  
“I know. I just don't want you to be afraid” – Meve replied and smiled gently.

They were sitting for a while in silence. Viera was looking at the _Good Book_ for a time before she asked:  
“What were you reading?”  
“The passages on dreams” – Meve replied and smiled again, but Viera raised her eyebrows and asked with curiosity:  
“And what the Prophet had to say about dreams?”  
“Not to trust them, but also not to dismiss them.”  
“Oh, well. Not too specific, I would say. Like the rest of the _Good Book_... You can always read into it whatever you wish. And some passages are even self-fulfilling prophecies, you know? Like the one, where he foretold that he would die in fire... and then he actually started to look for a dragon.”  
“I didn't know, that you're a believer.”  
“I'm not. My knowledge of the _Good Book_ is purely scientific.”  
“Oh, obviously.”

Viera smirked knowingly and asked:  
“Did you know, that it was actually Queen Zuleyka who came up with the way to send money to Redania for the war with Nilfgaard, not risking Kovir's neutrality?”  
“Ha! No, I didn't. However, it is widely known, that Esterad Thyssen is a wise man and listens to his wife, so I probably shouldn't be surprised. How did she do it? Quoting the _Good Book_?” – Meve asked in turn.  
“Obviously, the passage from the _Prophet Lebioda's Wisdom_ : _Because, I tell you that there is always someone who has a melon and is willing to give it to the poor – if not from generosity, then for calculations for very different reasons._ ”  
“Ingenious! I always liked her. She may seem quiet, but there is a brilliant mind hidden from view behind her silence. Although...” – the Queen trailed off and the major asked quietly:  
“What?”  
“As of late, she has become very close with the sorceress...”  
“Sheala de Tancarville. And you're wondering: who's using whom?”  
“Yes. Sorceresses claim to be 'politically neutral' but we both know, that there is no such a thing. I'll even say more: I trust much more those who openly say what they stand for than those who pretend to have their feet on both sides of the fence. Because you never know, what a 'politically neutral' person will do. But you can more or less suspect, what a person with political views is going to do.”  
“I guess that you stand by your resolution not to have a sorceress at your court?”  
“I lived and ruled without one for many years.”

Meve looked at Viera, sighed and continued:  
“They're meddling in our affairs, running their own policy. They're making mistakes but they never admit to them. Maybe but for Tissaia de Vries. She committed suicide, when she realised what she had done.”  
“I do agree with you, Meve, but... they're also useful. They have channels of fast communication we can only dream of. And they know things, they share things between themselves. Maybe you should consider finding someone to your liking” – Viera smirked. – “But not from Ban Ard, Reynard would never forgive me that” – they both chuckled and the major continued: – “Still, some young sorceress... Someone close to Phillipa Eilhart but not a fanatic.”  
“Close to Eilhart? Why would I invite a serpent to my nest?”  
“Because it's better to be careful than to be blind. And because the higher you climbed the more painful is the fall...”  
“So... you want Phillipa to succeed in placing someone in my court only to see her fall?”  
“Well, only if it is necessary... Maybe we can take her cat and turn it into our dog?”  
“What?” – Meve asked, narrowing her eyes.  
“Oh, Lebioda again. You should look for the passage about the neighbour and the dog” – Viera smirked before she spoke further: – “It's a pity Yennefer is dead. She would be perfect for this role... But what's done is done. Still, let's hope Phillipa Eilhart has more cats: young, ambitious and wicked. Just... think about it.”

Afterwards, Viera stood up, bowed and left her. Meve was watching her leave with a heavy heart for a long time. She knew that she would miss her young friend. She also knew that something was happening beyond her sight and that they all may be soon in danger once more.


	55. Edward Velen 1268

EDWARD

Velen 1268  
Rastburg  
Lyria and Rivia

There was a hustle in the stables of the Rastburg palace. The Scoia'tael commanders were leaving and everyone was getting ready. As he observed that process, he heard Viera's voice calling him:  
“Edward?”  
“Yes, major?” – he asked, turning around.  
“Would you go with me?”  
“Where?”  
“There are things... we need to do” – she answered, looked at him pensively and added: – “It's not an order, it's rather... a personal request.”  
“Of course, I'm going with you. To the world's end, you know it, Viera” – Edward replied strongly.  
“We'll need ten men, no more and they are all coming as volunteers.”  
“OK. Are we leaving with the commanders?”  
“Yes. We're heading East, to the Blue Mountains.”

Edward looked around the stables, but quickly turned back to Viera and stated:  
“Not so long ago we were desperately avoiding any chance of a meeting with them.”  
“True” – she replied.  
“Also quite recently, we have been fighting on the opposite sides of the war, even the battlefield.”  
“Yes.”

He paused and looked at her pointedly. Edward wasn't sure, how he was supposed to phrase his next question, so in the end, he asked:  
“What are we now?”

Viera sighed. She even looked down on the stable floor for a moment before she asked:  
“You and Eliza... How did you know?”  
“I... ahem... I didn't expect this question” – he replied confused. – “Well, I just knew.”  
“You just knew?”  
“Yes. I knew because I love her even when I hate her. Even when I'm tired and she's still screaming at me. And even when she left me for a time, just because she wasn't sure. I mean... my life with her is simply better than life without her.”  
“Well... I envy you the simplicity of this thought. I really do.”

They both chuckled before Edward noticed Coinneach entering the stables. Then, he asked her:  
“Is he the reason?”  
“No. But it's becoming harder for me to draw clear lines, you know? I do want to trust in all of this: the alliance, the idea of a better future and peace... I do want to believe, that there is a life for all of us after the war... That we can build something new: a life of prosperity for everyone. But when I say it out loud... it sounds ridiculous. So... I don't really know” – she paused and swallowed before she added: – “I think that we have at least some common goals. And I believe that we may be able to achieve them together. This is what I can say...”

Edward looked at her for a long time with raised eyebrows, before he replied:  
“Well, I don't envy you the complexity of this thought...”

They both laughed heartedly and Viera left, while Edward started to prepare his horse. An hour later, they were leaving the grounds of Rastburg palace. On the way, to Edward's uttermost surprise, commander Iorveth aligned his horse with him and asked:  
“I was thinking about it for the last few days and I simply cannot resist asking...”  
“Yes?” – Edward replied with reservation.  
“Why 'Rastburg'? Where did the name come from?”

Hearing this question, Edward burst into laughter. It wasn't what he expected... The question was so... normal. So normal, that it was almost strange.

_I should probably learn by now, that they are so... alike us. Sometimes you can hardly see any difference... but for pointy ears._

Edward smirked to himself, but Iorveth continued:  
“What?! It's a valid question.”  
“Yes, it is. I'm sorry” – Edward replied immediately but couldn't stop laughing.  
“So why are you laughing?”  
“I...” – the Lyrian hesitated. – “Isn't it at all surprising for you, that we... ride together? I mean... that we can get along quite nicely?”  
“Oh, yes. It was when I made a better acquittance with your major. Now, nothing surprises me any more.”  
“OK... I... ahem...” – Edward hesitated for a moment once again, so this time the Seidhe chuckled and added:  
“Not that good acquittance... What are you thinking about?”  
“Nothing” – the Lyrian replied quickly, but Iorveth added with a smirk:  
“Well... not because of the lack of trying on my part.”

Then, they both chuckled, but Edward said:  
“As to your initial question... Rastburg. Well, there is a theory... It says, that the name comes from the language of an ancient human civilisation. As you know, Nordlings arrived at the Continent some five hundred years ago, but before them, Dauks and Wożgors were here.”  
“I've heard about them. There are some relics of their presence...” – Iorveth replied pensively.  
“Yes. One of the old circles of stones is nearby. So, there is a theory which says that in Dauks language 'ratzen' meant to sleep deeply and 'burg' meant a stronghold. The word which we transformed in the Common Tongue to Rastburg, would mean a stronghold where you can sleep deeply and probably safely. However, the modern palace was built by Aen Seidhe and then modified by Nordlings, so if there had been a Dauks stronghold before, it was destroyed by... your people.”  
“Fascinating...” – the Seidhe said pensively and Edward agreed:  
“Indeed. Our history is complicated...”  
“Ours?” – Iorveth huffed. – “Well, not so long ago...” – he took a deep breath and finished: – “But now, I guess that you are right. A bit.”

Edward smiled. They rode together for a long time, conversing about Lyria, the Blue Mountains and their place of destination – Dol Blathanna. Thinking about the Valley of Flowers, Edward was feeling a bit uneasily. He suspected that Lyrians shouldn't expect a warm welcome there. Not after years of fighting between Aen Seidhe and Aedirnians. But... they would need to get over it.


	56. Viera Velen 1268

VIERA

Velen 1268  
road to Dravograd  
Lyria and Rivia

They were riding for the whole day in direction of the Blue Mountains in silence. Maybe for the better. After the morning conversation with Coinneach, Viera was confused. Truly, deeply confused. He wasn't the man she dreamed about and that was certain. But at the same time, it seemed impossible to go back to the time when she didn't care and when she could keep her distance. Emotionally.  
Emotions... Viera has never really spared them too much of her time or thoughts. Surly, sometimes she was sad, sometimes she was happy, but she has never been thinking about it. Also, extremely rarely she was considering her relationship with anyone. Again, sometimes she was angry at her brother, sometimes she missed her mother, sometimes she was glad that she has met Meve, Reynard, Edward and her men. But she has never been wondering about any of this. Until she understood that her relationship with Coinneach was probably meant to be complicated. She didn't like complicated. At all. Viera liked the simplicity and she didn't really like any attachments. Not really. Maybe but for her family and friends. Still... Coinneach was confusing.  
At dusk, they stopped at a clearing in the forest. They started to prepare a small camp of tents and for a split of a second, she caught Neach's eyes. Viera realised that he was looking at her with confusion, as well. Still, she prepared her tent and headed to the fire. They were all tired, so soon all disappeared in their tents. Once inside her tent, Viera changed quickly and laid on the mattress, closing her eyes. This was when she heard footsteps and saw a movement in the entrance. Soon, Coinneach got in and met her eyes again. For a time, they were just looking at each other, but Viera said in the end:  
“Sit down, if you want to talk.”  
“And if not?” – he asked and smirked.

She chuckled and replied:  
“Then, you need to undress and join me here.”

It was exactly what he wanted to hear. It became quite obvious when he joined her fifteen seconds later... quite ready to move on. And she trembled under his touch very soon, moaning into the pillow, trying very hard to muffle sounds coming out of her mouth. Still, this time it was different between them. They didn't hesitate. They weren't afraid of the silence, which would inevitably follow rhythmical sounds of love-making. This time truly and fully, they wanted the same, whatever it was. It was the undefined part but it was fine.  
Afterwards, he looked at her from the half-lying position and asked, reading her mind:  
“Is it enough?”  
“Neach... what are you asking me now?” – she asked quietly.  
“I told you in the morning, that your honesty was enough for me. And you made quite a thorough comment on the person I imagined you to be. But you've never really told me, what do you want?”  
“Me? I want peace. I want a world in which I wouldn't need to make impossible choices. The world where I wouldn't need to ponder on my every action and my every word. I don't want it to be perfect, I just want it to work: easily, on its own.”

Coinneach was silent for a long time before he whispered:  
“I can't give you that.”  
“I know” – she replied sadly. – “But I've never expected you to. I'm just saying... that I don't care about trivia... But the moment we won't work... I'm not willing to dwell in something that isn't working. I don't believe that anything is worth it. I'm saying that one day we may just go separate ways with no hard feelings.”  
“I see. What about the future we talked about in the morning? Are you willing to give it up?”  
“No, Neach. But I'm certainly not willing to give myself up. I'll gladly die for you and the future, but I won't lose myself for anyone or anything. So... I want us to work, but not at any cost.”  
“OK. I get it.”

Viera smiled slightly and cuddled up to him, but he was still tensed. She wanted to dismiss it and fall asleep, but he asked:  
“What did you do? In your dream... what did you do?”

She hesitated for a moment before she whispered:  
“I... I agreed to let the genocide in Dol Blathanna go unpunished. For peace... and for Meve.”  
“Genocide?” – he whispered slowly.  
“Yes, Neach. My dream ended in genocide...”  
“Could you prevent it? Or Meve, could she?” – he asked in a whisper.  
“No, we couldn't. We learned about it too late” – she answered and paused before she asked: – “Could you prevent the disaster in your dream?”  
“No. You died on the battlefield by the river Newi. Temerian, Lyrian and Rivian forces were annihilated there... But...” – he trailed off and she asked at once:  
“Yes?”  
“Enid could do something. She could have sent her forces to your aid...”  
“But she didn't. Still, Neach... would it really make a difference? How many does she have under her command? Could she send them so far from the borders of Dol Blathanna, with Demawend and Henselt always ready to attack...?”  
“I don't know. Are you... justifying her?”  
“Maybe...” – she paused before she asked: – “What happened to my family?”  
“Me and Saraid... we decided to take them into the Blue Mountains, but then I woke up...”  
“Oh, Neach... thank you” – she looked at him and a sorrowful, gentle smile graced her lips, as he replied:  
“You would have done the same.”  
“I intended to... before I woke up.”  
“You see.”  
“I do. But now I want to sleep. Can we?”  
“Yes, sorry. It was just... haunting me.”  
“I know. Some things from that dream are haunting me, too. I'm almost afraid to fall asleep.”  
“Me too.”

But they did. They've slept together, entangled closely. And they had no dreams at all, at least none they would remember in the morning.


	57. Isengrim Velen 1268

ISENGRIM

Velen 1268  
the Elskerdeg Pass

It was a cold morning after almost freezing night, but they didn't expect anything less. They were high in the Blue Mountains and it was cold autumn, the next night would be the eve of Saovine and from there it was almost Midinváerne and winter. He expected to start the next year at the foothills of the Mountains, but on their Eastern side. He decided a while ago to leave everything behind, his life and his name, and to start anew somewhere far away in a strange land.  
But Coinneach's face was still haunting him from time to time along with the last words he said to him.

_Se’ved, caerme se dea!_

At this memory, Isengrim clenched his teeth and fought against tears, threatening to roll down his cheeks.

_I left them... I abandoned them... I'm a coward and I'm going to live with this knowledge for the rest of my days..._

But now, he, Boreas Mun and Sigi Reuven were all packing. They scattered the evidence of their fire and their presence here. After all, Isengrim knew a lot about hiding and covering his tracks. They were almost ready to go when he heard a whistle. A whistle... which stopped his heart. Then, he turned around quickly.  
From the West, a group of people was coming their way. Thirty, maybe forty... but he didn't need much time to recognise silhouettes of Coinneach, Iorveth, Saraid and many, many more. He almost started to run their way, but then he hesitated and asked:  
“Am I hallucinating, Boreas?”  
“If you're asking me whether a group of Aen Seidhe, armed and looking rather dangerously, is coming our way, then: no. You're not” – the man replied with hesitation.

Isengrim started to run in their direction as he noticed, that Coinneach ran in his direction, as well. This is how they've met in the middle of the road and hugged brotherly. Then, he asked in disbelief:  
“Neach? How?”  
“Is... Gods! We've come in time. And the answer to your question is: Meve. She made a deal with Enid, we were released” – his friend stated, but Isengrim separated from him and asked quickly:  
“So what has happened in Dillingen? Angus and Riordan are dead! Why?”

Coinneach sighed and answered:  
“Temerians were bribed, this is why they allowed the mercenaries to drag you away... Then, Redanians were planning to take more of us, but Lyrians intervened.”  
“Are you saying that they died... what? Accidentally?” – Isengrim replied angrily and got an answer from a new, female voice:  
“They died because we failed to stop it. I'm sorry, commander.”

Isengrim looked in the woman's direction with rage. She was a dh'oine for sure. She had rather short, raven-black hair and quite a nice face. But, by then, Isengrim didn't care at all. He made a few steps towards her and asked coldly:  
“Do you believe, that your apology means anything, dh'oine?”  
“Well, it was just a polite thing to say, commander. Would you prefer the truth?” – she asked coldly, as well.  
“Yes.”  
“Is...” – Coinneach started, but stopped, seeing his and her furious faces.  
“All right: it wasn't my responsibility. I wouldn't allow it to happen, because we had different orders and it's not so easy to bribe Lyrians, but it wasn't my responsibility. I was just following my orders” – the woman stated matter-of-factly and Isengrim asked with rage:  
“Following orders?! Is it the explanation for all the murders and massacres you, dh'oine, were committing? For all the atrocities?”  
“Yes, it is. And I do hope, that it's enough. If it's not... I'm just making the biggest mistake of my life. Commander, don't make me regret forgiving what you and your men were doing to my people. Because it wasn't easy and I didn't forget. I didn't even intend to forgive for a long time, but I've learned my lesson and I decided to look ahead, not back. Did you learn yours?”

Isengrim realised that the woman's voice was cold like ice, as were her eyes. She was like a freezing day in the middle of the winter: captivating and overwhelming at the same time. Like a day you want to last and to end at the same time, because you're enchanted but still you yearn for the spring. He breathed slower and didn't answer for a long time, but he knew that she was right. It didn't make things any easier, but she was. They were standing like this, scrutinising each other for a long time, but it was Sigi Reuven who interrupted this silent battle:  
“What is the famous Manticore doing in this gods' forsaken place?”  
“Dijkstra... an interesting company you're keeping nowadays. But I guess that I understand. You are on the run from a very angry and dangerous ex-lover, after all. It was your Phil, who wanted you dead, wasn't it?” – she asked and smirked.

_So... I suspected that he was from Redanian Intelligence, but Dijkstra himself? Well... A strange meeting and a strange company, indeed._

But the woman and Sigi were still talking. It was the Redanian who quasi-answered her question slowly:  
“Well informed as always, major.”  
“And what now? Are you heading to Zerrikania?” – she asked.  
“Wherever the road takes me...”  
“With colonel of the Vrihedd Brigade and Nilfgaardian tracker? Your mare presence in their company is treason, but you know it, don't you?”  
“Are you threatening me, major? After all... you came here in the company of the rest of the officers of the Vrihedd Brigade. A strange company, indeed. Suspicious, I would say.”

Now, Isengrim started to think about it, too. He looked at Coinneach with surprise and asked quietly when the two dh'oine left them alone:  
“It's a just question, Neach. What are you doing with Lyrians?”  
“We were looking for you, fraere” – the older Seidhe answered.  
“Why?”  
“I'll tell you after Viera decides what to do with your travelling companions.”  
“She?” – he asked and paused before he inquired suspiciously: – “You're fucking her, aren't you?”  
“Let's say... that we have an arrangement.”  
“An arrangement? Does it consist of fucking?”  
“Among other things, yes.”  
“Oh, fraere... it's you, who haven't learned the lesson.”  
“Which one?”  
“That some dreams are just not worth pursuing. Hopeless. She is the jasmine, isn't she?” – Isengrim asked resignedly, but Neach first chuckled and then replied:  
“Yes, she is. And I haven't realised, how much you and Viera have in common, until now. She also believes that I'm pursuing hopeless dreams, but... you're both wrong to some extent.”  
“Really?”  
“Really. The deal between Enid and Meve allowed us not only to keep Dol Blathanna but also to open its borders to Scoia'tael. We can go home, Is.”

If someone told him yesterday, that today he would meet his friends and learn, that they can go home... he would laugh bitterly. But here he was: gaping at his friend and barely breathing. Coinneach decided to continue:  
“And Viera told us, that there is a point in looking for you. There were two groups of mercenaries tracking you – both dead by now. She is not the enemy, Is. No longer... maybe she has never truly been.”

The Lyrian major came back to them soon and stated:  
“Dijkstra decided to meet with Meve, Boreas Mun is going East.”  
“OK” – Coinneach replied, looked at Isengrim and introduced them: – “Viera, this is Isengrim. Fraere, this is major Viera Davell. I guess, that we can be civil to each other from now on.”

She didn't say a word but extended her hand to him without hesitation. Isengrim frowned a bit but shook it. Afterwards, she smiled at Coinneach fleetingly and left them. The younger commander looked at his friend's smile, sighed and asked:  
“Are you sure that it is enough?”  
“Sure? No. But I do hope so...” – Neach replied.  
“You're falling for her.”  
“Hmm... again. Arguably even for the third time... Yes.”  
“Again? Third time? What are you talking about?”  
“Well... we've been through a lot when you were missing.”

Isengrim raised his eyebrows questioningly, asking:  
“Two months! I was gone for a bit more than two months. What could have possibly happened in this time?”  
“Let's say... that it felt like a lot more” – Coinneach answered mysteriously.

Then, his friend looked at him pensively, smiled warmly and left Isengrim to consider this cryptic remark in solitude.


	58. Lindon Saovine 1269

LINDON

Saovine 1269  
Dol Blathanna

It was two days after the beginning of the new year when news about Scoia'tael commanders reached the main city of Dol Blathanna. The message was suspiciously short. It only informed them, that the commanders descended the Blue Mountains and intended to reach the city the next day. In the morning, the city guards spotted them and passed the news, that they are close. So, Lindon and Finiel were now waiting on the square in front of the palace, watching the newcomers.  
Lindon knew most of the commanders. He recognised quickly Iorveth and Saraid, Lóegairen and Toruviel. Soon, he noticed Coinneach Da Réo, as well. Then, Lindon frowned. The Queen had received a letter from Coinneach a week ago stating, that they were joined by a few Lyrians, including major Viera Davell. Now, the dh'oine was walking next to Coinneach. Close. So very close indeed, that Lindon considered for a while whether they were holding hands.  
After a short while, he understood that they were and his frown deepened considerably. The woman looked like a human. She was a human. And her mare presence in Dol Blathanna was an abomination. Lindon wasn't willing to pretend that he believed otherwise, so he whispered to Finiel:  
“Bloede dh'oine...”  
“Keep it quiet. Commander is close to her” – the other Seidhe replied.  
“This makes her his whore, nothing else.”  
“Whatever you're thinking... it's not our decision to make.”  
“Her Highness thinks exactly the same.”  
“Then, dh'oine will be asked to leave very soon. Just after he grows bored with her and it will happen quickly. Now, just pretend that you don't see.”  
“But why would he... use something like this.”  
“She's young. Probably just an easy fuck. Let him have his fun.”

They stopped the conversation when the group came closer. Then, Finiel said politely, faking a smile:  
“Commanders, welcome at last to Dol Blathanna. Her Highness, Enid aen Gleanna, is awaiting you in the palace.”  
“We're thankful” – Coinneach replied strongly – “However, first we would like to have a bath and a change of clothes. I'm sure that you were awaiting our arrival and that our houses are ready for us.”  
“But...” – Finiel tried, but was interrupted:  
“Now, it is a polite request. Soon, it will be an order.”  
“Of course. But the major...” – Lindon started coldly looking at the Lyrian major, but Coinneach cut in, again:  
“Viera and her men will accompany us. Always. Lord Filavandrel may meet her in the palace.”  
“In the palace! Dh'oine! This suggestion is absolutely outrageous!” – Lindon exclaimed indignantly.

Coinneach smiled at him coldly and stated:  
“If so, Enid and Filavandrel can meet all of their commanders in our house. Speaking of which... Finiel: lead us there. Now. Lindon: inform Her Highness, that we intend to come to meet her as soon as we're ready, if she's interested in meeting with us. Also, I would like to meet with the Aen Saevherne, Ida Emean aep Sivney.”

The commanders didn't spare them even one more glance before they started to walk ahead. Lindon and Finiel looked at each other in shock but obeyed. After all, who would dare not to obey Coinneach Da Réo's direct order?

Lindon got to the throne room quickly and met disappointed eyes of Enid ean Gleanna, who asked coldly:  
“Where are my commanders?”  
“They wanted to be refreshed before meeting with you, Your Highness” – he answered, carefully choosing his words.  
“Oh, obviously.”  
“And... ahem...” – Lindon trailed off, but the Duchess urged him:  
“Yes?”  
“Commander Coinneach Da Réo... ahem...” – he didn't finish, but she did it for him:  
“Is in a company of a Lyrian. I know.”  
“He intends to take her here. With him.”  
“What? That's...” – she started, but Lindon said in a whisper:  
“Or he invites you to...” – he cleared his throat loudly: – “Their house.”  
“Theirs?!” – Enid exclaimed, but paused and stated with cold anger after a time: – “All right, they may come here together...”  
“But, Your Highness...” – a few people in the throne room started.  
“They lead our army. What would you have me do? Refuse? And I know, that we... risked their lives... I won't start their stay in our Dol Blathanna with an argument” – Enid cut them short.  
“Of course, Your Highness” – Lindon bowed low and left.

Lindon walked quickly towards Coinneach's house. The forenoon didn't go, as it was supposed to go. At all. And it was only getting worse by the minute. As he knocked to Coinneach's door, it was opened by the dh'oine. She smiled at him politely and said:  
“Come in, Lindon. And call me Viera.”

He swallowed hard.

_We're not on the first name basis, dh'oine..._

But still, he entered the house and spoke nothing. The woman was already bathed judging by her hair and in fresh clothing. As he realised, what she was wearing, he exclaimed:  
“Lyrian uniform? Is this how you intend to go to the palace?”  
“Obviously” – she replied. – “I'm Lyrian major and we're allies, aren't we? I have every right to dress formally in Dol Blathanna.”  
“You have no right to even be here!” – Lindon growled and continued dangerously: – “You filthy dh'oine, who do you think you are? This...”  
“You know, Lindon” – the cold and commanding voice of Coinneach Da Réo reached him from the hallway before he could say more. Soon, the commander stood in the door-frame of the living room and continued: – “If you can't show the proper respect for the lady of this house, you won't be invited in again. Viera was more than kind to you, but I'm certainly tired of your attitude. The only way you can address her is: major. I won't tolerate anything else. And if you can't speak respectfully, I suggest you don't speak at all.”

Lindon, obviously, froze.

_The lady of this house... Gods..._


	59. Ida Saovine 1269

IDA

Saovine 1269  
Dol Blathanna

Ida didn't intend to go to the palace that day, but when Enid's runner suggested that Coinneach Da Réo requested her presence, she couldn't refuse. She couldn't refuse mostly, because she still remembered Enid's words and her own silence in Cintra.

_Pro publico bono..._

The Aen Saevherne walked through the corridors slowly and entered the throne room unnoticed. Soon after her arrival, the commanders joined them, as well. At their head walked Coinneach and...  
“Isengrim? You're...” – even Enid couldn't hide her surprise and trailed off in deep shock.  
“Your Highness” – they all knelt respectfully for a while, so Enid spoke further:  
“Rise up. I...” – she started, but Coinneach interrupted her:  
“Your Highness, we wanted to speak to you, Lord Filavandrel and the Aen Saevherne, Ida. The rest” – he looked at many people gathered in the throne room – “Should leave. Now.”

There was a hustle in the throne room. Some started to whisper in anger, some looked at the commander strangely. But, in the end, everyone left. As the door was closed, Enid started to speak with discontent:  
“Commander, I know that you went through a lot. I understand your anger.”  
“Anger? If I was angry, Lindon and Finiel would have already lost their teeth. Just as a preventive measure and probably a good example. But they didn't. I'm not angry, Your Highness. I'm simply determined” – Coinneach replied seriously.  
“To do what?”  
“To keep us all safe and to make things right.”  
“Things?”  
“Yes.”  
“And to do it, you're bringing here this... woman” – Enid ended coldly, looking at the Lyrian disapprovingly.  
“This woman has a name” – Coinneach replied strongly and continued: – “Viera Davell is here indeed on my invitation, but it was you who forged the alliance with Lyria and Rivia.”  
“Is this an official visit? If so, why are you here, major?” – Enid turned her attention to the Lyrian.  
“I'm here to save your life, Your Highness” – the woman spoke calmly.  
“My life? The only thing threatening me now is you, luned” – Enid replied coldly.  
“No, Your Highness. You're wrong” – Viera Davell replied emphatically. At this Enid narrowed her eyes dangerously, but the major continued in a strong voice: – “The storm is coming. I've seen it. We've seen it” – she finished and looked at Coinneach.

Ida observed them for a second. She has heard about the strange meeting of those two and about the Law of Surprise. She didn't really read too much into it until Coinneach stated:  
“We had a dream.”  
“A dream?” – Ida asked slowly, speaking for the first time during this strange meeting.  
“Yes. Very similar dreams, actually... On the same night” – Coinneach turned his attention to her.  
“Twin dreams?” – she inquired in a whisper and looked at him pointedly. – “Are you sure?”  
“Yes. What does it mean, Aen Saevherne?” – he asked politely.  
“Destiny. Your dreams were telling the truth, but... now as you know it, things will probably change. Twin dreams are not prophecies... They're rather visions. Alternative versions of the future. Still, we need to know everything. From the day the two of you first met” – she stated and looked at both the commander and the woman at his side. Viera Davell smiled uneasily and replied:  
“This is why we're here, Aen Saevherne. We came to warn you.”

Ida listened to their story with interest. It was an extraordinary tale, she wouldn't say otherwise. As they finished, she had very little doubt about the value of their words. So, as Viera said:  
“Then, we had a conversation and we came to the conclusion.”  
“Which was?” – Ida asked slowly.  
“If we are to prevent it, we need to act together. Swiftly.”  
“So what are you suggesting, major?” – Enid asked, looking at the Lyrian pointedly, but with significantly less anger and reservation than before.

Viera Davell looked through the window for a second and took a deep breath before she replied:  
“Demawend is both a danger and the weakest king in the North.”  
“What do you intend to do with him?” – Enid asked again, however, her voice suggested that she knew the answer.  
“We need Aedirnian Army... and you need Aedirn itself.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes, Enid. Soon, too many Aen Seidhe refugees will come here for us to shelter them. Soon, we will have a dilemma: us or them” – Coinneach said strongly. – “We need more lands.”  
“Henselt will retaliate” – Enid said immediately.  
“Not, if Aedrin was to become condominium and if we had Foltest of Temeria on our side” – Viera replied.  
“And how do you want to achieve it?”  
“We need to offer him something. Firstly, peace in Sodden and Brugge. Secondly, assurance of alliance.”  
“He is an ally to Demawend. Why would he need us?”  
“Because Demawend is far too stupid to give him what he really wants. We, on the other hand, are interested in strengthening Temerians.”  
“You want to redraw the map of the whole Continent, don't you?” – the Duchess asked slowly and Viera replied:  
“You want just the same. But... you'll need to stomach us.”

There was a long silence in the throne room. Yet, Enid spoke in the end:  
“Is this Meve's offer?”  
“We haven't discussed it with her, yet” – the Lyrian major replied.  
“Why?”  
“Because to do it, I would need to reveal the truth to her. The truth about Cintran marriage and the fact, that Cirilla Fiona Ellen Riannon, the real one, is not only Queen of Cintra, but also the Heiress to the Nilfgaardian throne.”  
“Neach? What have you done?” – Filavandrel asked with irritation, but major Davell stated quietly:  
“You, yourself, revealed it to me, my lord. In my dream. Coinneach only confirmed it. You also told me, that Ciri is the descendant of Lara Dorren, the Hen Ichaer and that we need her much more than we need her father. For now, she is missing, probably for the best, but... one day she may choose to become more. And it is in our interest, that she would be able to do it... with our help.”

Ida held her breath. The woman in front of them spoke of things, which didn't allow many of them to sleep easily at night. It was hard to say, whether her plans would bring them closer to the inevitable doom or to buy them time. The time they so desperately needed. But... definitely what she was proposing could change everything.


	60. Saraid Saovine 1269

SARAID

Saovine 1269  
Dol Blathanna

Saraid listened to the conversation held in the throne room of the palace in the City of Silver Towers with awe. It was the first time, as she has heard the full story. And, although she knew about the strange connection between Coinneach and Viera for some time, for the first time she truly believed that it may be there for a reason.

Enid took a deep breath and stated:  
“All right. You've proven your point. I expect, that you want me to meet with Meve again to discuss it further.”  
“Yes, Your Highness” – Viera replied. – “I'm not speaking for her, but... the opportunity in front of us is worth considering.”

They've spent more than two hours in the palace. They've understood, that they are talking about war again and that they're taking a huge risk... again. Still, it looked as if it may be worth it. At least this time.

In the evening, they've all met at the meadow just outside the city. To Saraid's surprise, as she came to the meeting, Viera and Coinneach were already there, talking to Torque. The sylvan seemed very excited and chuckled from time to time when Viera spoke. After a while, Saraid was able to catch the Lyrian alone and asked:  
“Why were you talking to the sylvan?”  
“Well, I met Torque in my dream. But it was just my imagination, so I wanted to make a real acquittance now, that I'm in Dol Blathanna. He's a charming person.”  
“A person?” – Saraid asked with surprise and the Lyrian smiled gently, replying:  
“Well, yes. I would certainly say so. Wouldn't you?”  
“He's nice and all, but... he's not...”  
“A Seidhe or even a human... I know. Still, he knows more about kindness and empathy than any of us. He's a better person, however, he's a sylvan.”

Saraid didn't reply to this for a long time. She was observing Viera attentively when the memory came back to her mind.

_Yule 1236_  
_the Blue Mountains_

_Saraid was watching her mother, as she was sleeping. Her mother was sick for weeks by now. Since three days ago she hasn't eaten anything. Before, whatever she ate she vomited soon after. The fever hasn't broken down for a week. Saraid herself was sick, too. She was too tired too even weep. She was certainly too tired to eat. And so they lingered in silent desperation, awaiting death. They were alone, the illness came to the mountains a month ago and many were sick. They all had their own problems._  
_After some time, but Saraid really couldn't tell how long any more, she heard a movement in the entrance to the cave and she recognised Torque. The sylvan was a strange creature. He was a bit of simpleton, true, but he was also good and kind. He came to Saraid, looked at her mother and stated:_  
_“I'm so sorry.”_  
_“What?” – she asked with surprise._  
_“She passed away. I'm so sorry.”_  
_“What?!”_

_Saraid touched her mother, checked her pulse and realised, that he was right. Then, she started to weep heavily, not even trying to stop her tears. And Torque stayed with her, not saying a word until she fell asleep. Everyone else was busy with their own problems, but not Torque. It was him, who spared his time to ease her grief._

Now, Saraid smiled sorrowfully at Viera and said:  
“You're right. I think... I think, that we've never seen him that way. He's not...”  
“One of you... So he's a lesser being, yes?” – the Lyrian asked quietly.  
“I don't know.”  
“Well, it doesn't matter, I guess” – Viera replied quickly and changed the subject: – “Are you coming with us to Rivia?”  
“Yes.”  
“OK” – the Lyrian replied and left her alone.

Saraid was sitting, looking into the fire, when Toruviel sat next to her, just where Viera had been sitting before, and asked:  
“What is going on?”  
“I can't figure her out” – she replied.  
“Oh... Then, you should just leave her be...”  
“Really?”  
“Yes. Look, Saraid, we are all in the uncharted territory here. We all don't really know what we are doing. So, we should focus on tomorrow and see what happens. There is nothing more one can do. In a week, we are going to Rivia. Then, we'll think what's next.”  
“Don't you worry, Toru?”  
“About what?”  
“We see her through his eyes. We are letting our guard down. Like the last time...” – Saraid finished coldly.  
“Probably. Let's hope then, that this time we are right.”  
“Hope?”  
“We can't control everything” – Toruviel stated and drunk her wine.

Saraid looked back into the fire in silence.


	61. Iorveth Saovine 1269

IORVETH

Saovine 1269  
Dol Blathanna

The gathering was getting louder and merrier by a minute. A big bonfire was lighted in the centre of the huge meadow and barrels of wine were quickly going empty. Just about midnight, Iorveth decided to leave the rest for a time and to admire the beauty of their Dol Blathanna at night.  
The starlight was brighter than ever, when he was strolling in the direction of the forest to the North-West. The night was cold and first freezing blows of wind were coming from the East. He shivered but walked ahead. Iorveth felt that he was smiling like a fool, but there was something so good in this freedom, that he didn't even try to stop himself. He could just stroll leisurely and he knew that he was safe. And that... that was a feeling which abandoned him years ago. But, now, here he was. Not the same, but... free. If he was to do it all over again, he wouldn't hesitate for a second.  
He entered the forest and was greeted by the familiar scent of moss and pines. Then, suddenly, he heard a movement a few dozens steps ahead of him. Iorveth headed that way without hesitation and got to the line of trees, encircling a clearing. There...

_I shouldn't drink so much wine... Or was there something in the pipe Isengrim gave me? What the fuck?!_

At the opposite edge of the clearing was lying a huge form of a...

_No... They're extinct... It's... Gods, it moved!_

Iorveth instinctively made a few steps back, when the huge form of certainly not-a-dragon moved. But then, it was still again. The Seidhe looked around and noticed blood close to the lying body. Whatever it was, it was probably wounded.

_Maybe I can kill a dragon. This is certainly interesting: Iorveth the Dragonslayer... I do like the sound of that. However... should one kill a dragon? They're on the verge of extinction... but... they're also dangerous. So... maybe?_

He made a few steps ahead hesitatingly. The moonlight just shone on the dragon's form again and Iorveth realised, that its scales were almost golden, even in the cold, white light of the moon. He was growing curious, so he walked quietly in its direction and then something even more unexpected happened. The dragon started to shrink and change until...

_A woman? Am I going mad?_

Despite this thought, he quickened his pace until he knelt next to her body. There was a deep wound now visible in her abdomen, but she was still breathing. He didn't think twice before he took off his shirt and tried to stop the bleeding. Later, he used his coat to cover her. Then, he lifted her up and ran back to the city.  
On his way, he looked at her rather nice face. She had beautiful and rich golden hair. In case he was actually going crazy, he didn't go back to the bonfire but headed straight to his house. There, he laid the woman in his bed, cleaned her wound and secured it with bandages. Afterwards, he stood by the wall and looked in disbelief at her form, lying and still shivering from cold in his bed. After a quarter of an hour, she was still cold to the touch, so he decided to join her under the blankets. This night... he fell asleep hugging the strange dragon-woman.

Iorveth woke up in his own bed when first golden rays of sun enlighten his bedroom. He stretched lazily and froze. There was someone in his bed. For a moment a knowing smirk appeared on his lips, but soon it fell and he rolled around slowly. He wasn't in bed with a Seidhe he had fucked yesterday, as he initially suspected... The woman in his bed was the stranger he had found yesterday in the woods. As he realised it, he got up and left the room. For a time he was pacing back and forth in the living room, but in the end he decided to take a bath, to change and then to find someone who would assure him, that he didn't lose his mind. And the first persons he thought of were...

_Coinneach and Viera. Yes. They are in a nonsense themselves._


	62. Saskia Saovine 1269

SASKIA

Saovine 1269  
Dol Blathanna

When she woke up, it took her a long time to understand, where she was. Especially, because her abdomen was still hurting badly. She remembered that she was able to remove the spear...

_The hunters... But... what happened next?_

Saskia tried to look around the room she was in and started to shake her head in disbelief.

_Where am I?_

She was in a house, lying in a bed. She was naked, but her wound was treated. When she rolled around, she smelled an unfamiliar, yet not unpleasant scent.

_Pipe... Moss... and wood?_

Then, Saskia tried to sit up and noticed a glass of water on the cupboard. She drunk it all in a one go, but she was still dehydrated. However, when she decided to stand up, she heard the sound of the opening of a door and a few footsteps entering the room next to the one she was in. And she froze. Soon, she heard male voice. He was speaking Hen Llinge and she also realised, that he was quite nervous and his voice was sharp when he said:  
“Well, I invited you both here... because I have a problem.”  
“Fraere?” – another male voice asked with concern. But the voice of the second man was calm, smooth and warm.  
“I... Yesterday I left the party around midnight” – the first stated.  
“I saw you. You went into the forest.”  
“Yes. And there... well... There I found a woman.”  
“You've found a woman in the forest?” – a female voice asked. Her voice was cold, mocking and commanding. Saskia instinctively looked at the door with fear.

She had no weapon, was naked and injured. There was really not much she could do... so she only listened further with tension.  
“Yes” – the first man replied.  
“Well, it's hardly new for you, isn't it?” – the woman asked.  
“No, but... She's not a Seidhe.”  
“So... You've found a dh'oine from one of the villages in Dol Blathanna in the forest at night?” – the second man asked slowly.  
“I doubt it. I think, that she's a stranger” – the first replied pensively.  
“A dh'oine stranger in Dol Blathanna? But the borders are closely watched... She would need to... fell from the sky!” – the woman stated and chuckled.  
“I believe that this is exactly, what she has done” – the first man replied quietly.

The second man chuckled warmly before he stated:  
“Fraere... women don't fall from the sky. We both know, where they come from.”  
“Neach... she's... ahem...” – the first man hesitated. – “When I first saw her, she... didn't look the same.”  
“Didn't look the same? How did she look like then?”  
“Ahem...” – the first men cleared his throat uneasily.  
“Please don't tell me, that you've spent a night with a vampire!” – the woman exclaimed.  
“What? No!” – the first man replied quickly but then asked with curiosity: – “Could I?”  
“Theoretically... but it would be incredibly stupid” – the woman scolded him. – “So with whom or what did you spend the last night?”  
“To be exact... I didn't spend the night with her, because she was injured. Is still injured, I guess. But I did warm her up, she was freezing.”

Three people in the other room chuckled shortly before they went silent. And Saskia felt a blush creeping on her face.

_He slept with me... So the scent... But he's a stranger! I don't... I didn't..._

But the conversation in the other room continued:  
“So, she's another species of shape-shifters... OK” – the woman said calmly. – “And she fell from the sky...” – there was a pause before she exclaimed: – “Did you find a golden dragon?!”  
“Are they real?” – the first man asked hopefully.  
“There are rumours... that they are.”  
“Well, then: I've found one last night. She's probably still asleep in my bed. And, because she's still naked, it may be better, if the first person she meets is you, Viera.”  
“This is why you asked me to bring clothes... OK. I'm going there.”

There was a moment of silence, but then Saskia heard a quiet sound of the opening of the door and a woman stood in the door-frame. She was wearing a mix of human and elven clothes but managed to look very pretty in it. The moment she met Saskia's opened eyes, she closed the door and said in Common:  
“Don't worry. You are safe. You're in the city of Silver Towers in Dol Blathanna. You were wounded. That's why Iorveth brought you here. My name is Viera... Do you need anything?”  
“Water” – Saskia whispered through her dry throat.  
“Sure. And bath?”  
“Yes.”  
“OK.”

Viera left the bedroom and asked both men to leave the house. Soon, she came back and led her to the bath-tube. Saskia dreamed of a good, long bath, but her wound didn't allow her to take it. She was only able to quickly wash herself. Then, she dressed up in Viera's clothes, which fitted her quite well. Later, they headed back to the bed. Saskia still felt too weak and tired to do anything else but to lay down and probably go to sleep again.  
The woman with the cold voice turned out to be surprisingly kind and caring. She helped Saskia and she didn't even need to ask. Also, Viera didn't ask her any questions but for the matters at hand. When Saskia was back in bed, the other woman left the house and said, that she was going to fetch her some food.  
Saskia breathed easier. All of this was rather unexpected, but... it looked as if she was safe and in good hands. Quarter an hour later, the door of the house and the bedroom were opened again, but in the door-frame didn't appear Viera. Instead, Saskia looked upon a man. He was a Seidhe without a doubt. At first she noticed a few raven-dark hair, covering his ear and a tattoo. Then, she noticed his bandanna and a scar running down his cheek. Soon, she understood.

_Scoia'tael..._

He was observing her, too. Attentively and a bit hesitatingly. After a moment of quite awkward silence, she asked:  
“Who are you?”

The moment she asked this question she realised, that it sounded... stupid and was quite impolite, too. Soon, the blush came back to her cheeks and she averted her gaze. Then, he replied:  
“My name is Iorveth. I... ahem... I've found you yesterday in the forest.”  
“And you brought me here. Why?” – she asked.  
“Why?” – he raised his eyebrows with surprise. – “Well, you were wounded, laying naked on the ground, the night was quite cold and you would probably freeze to death, if I didn't.”  
“Why did you care?”  
“Oh, I'm not sure” – he tilted his head slightly. – “At first... I must admit... that I was considering killing you.”  
“Oh? You wanted to kill a dragon?”  
“Well... I was considering it. But you were wounded and...”  
“And?”  
“I don't really like killing the last specimen of dying species...”  
“I'm not the last dragon, you know?”  
“But your species is on the verge of extinction...”  
“True.”  
“Then, we have a lot in common, I guess. I just don't have as cool form as you do.”  
“Do you breathe fire?” – she asked calmly, but couldn't stop laughing at his expression when he admitted:  
“I would love to.”  
“So what can you do, really?” – she asked, chuckling.

Iorveth's face changed into a dangerous, charming smirk when he said:  
“Oh, luned... There are many things I can do. And I bet, that you'd like them.”

Saskia felt that her cheeks were burning. Her blush was probably crimson when she looked down at her hands and cleared her throat uneasily. There was another awkward silence before he said:  
“Well, I haven't ask your name. You weren't too talkative yesterday...”  
“Saskia” – she replied.  
“Saskia? It's quite... hmm... normal.”  
“Normal?”  
“I... Either way, I brought you some food” – he stated, laid the plate on the cupboard and left the room quickly.

Only afterwards, she started to breathe normally.


	63. Iorveth Saovine 1269

IORVETH

Saovine 1269  
Dol Blathanna

_Normal? Did I actually say it out loud? Normal?! What an idiot!_

He left his house and leaned heavily on the door. Then, he looked absent-mindedly on the ground. Soon, he heard Viera's voice:  
“Iorveth? Are you all right?”  
“Yes” – he replied heavily.  
“What have you done?”  
“Nothing! Except from making a fool out of myself.”  
“Oh.”  
“Oh? I acted like a fourteen-year-old... Did I mention, that I scare her off, too?”  
“Oh.”  
“Oh?! Really?! Well, I probably shouldn't mention sex in the first conversation with a girl whom, just yesterday, I've found unconscious in the forest and carried naked to my bed...” – Iorveth trailed off and Viera agreed:  
“No... You shouldn't have. The story is awkward enough as it is.”  
“Really?!”  
“Iorveth, we can invite her to stay with us, if you want.”  
“And expose her to whatever you're doing all the time, judging by Neach's stupid smirk every time he leaves the house?”  
“Well...”  
“No.”  
“OK. Did you leave her food at least?”  
“Yes, I did. I'm not retarded, Viera” – Iorveth stated indignantly and the woman replied with a smirk:  
“I know. I was just checking.”

He was silent for a time but then he asked:  
“Viera?”  
“Yes?” – she replied with a question.  
“What are we going to do with her?”  
“Well, she's not a prisoner. We will help her heal and she will probably be on her way...” – she said pensively and Iorveth replied heavily:  
“Yeah...”  
“You're developing a strange attachment to her, aren't you?”  
“Maybe.”  
“Like to a pet... A stray, limping dog you found in a ditch...” – Viera said in a blank voice, but he replied harshly:  
“What? No.”  
“So, what kind of attachment?”  
“I don't know.”  
“OK. Just remember... that she will most likely leave. The moment she feels better. It's not her home, you know?”  
“I do. And, come on! It's just...” – he paused, so the woman cut in:  
“What? Easy fuck? A helpless girl already lying in your bed...”  
“No! Not like that” – Iorveth exclaimed with indignation, but Viera only asked calmly:  
“Then like what?”  
“It's not what I've meant.”  
“Then, you should probably figure out what are you thinking about. Soon. And then, you probably shouldn't do it” – Viera looked at him disapprovingly and left him alone.

Iorveth looked at her back when she was leaving and frowned.

_She just scolded me, didn't she? For what? For something I haven't even thought about... yet._

He decided, that he needed to go hunting and so he did. He came back home late in the night and checked on Saskia. She was sleeping serenely. Iorveth sighed, took one of the spare blankets and headed back to the living room to sleep on the sofa.

The next morning, he found her already sitting by the kitchen table. As he walked in, Saskia turned around and greeted him with a small smile:  
“Ceád'mil.”  
“It's good to see you on your feet so soon after such an injury” – Iorveth replied with a bit fake smile and then he asked: – “How are you feeling?”  
“I'm a dragon, remember? I heal quickly.”  
“I see.”  
“I'll be ready to travel tomorrow” – Saskia stated with a smile and he replied with disappointment:  
“Oh.”  
“Yesterday I realised that I haven't thanked you for helping me. So: thank you.”  
“My pleasure.”  
“Hmm...”

An awkward silence fell on them again. Iorveth took a glass of water and sat by the table before he asked:  
“Where are you from?”  
“I was travelling a lot with my father. But since he left, I've spent most of my time in Vergen” – Saskia replied with a warm smile.  
“Vergen? I liked it there.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes. I was there for a few days some years ago. Some of our friends were...” – Iorveth hesitated before he finished awkwardly: – “...there.”  
“Friends?” – she asked with interest.  
“Well... ahem...” – he decided to change the subject and asked: – “How do you like Dol Blathanna?”  
“I've only seen the inside of your house, you know.”  
“I guess...”

Yet another awkward silence fell on them and they were avoiding each other's eyes for a time. But after few minutes, Saskia said:  
“Don't worry, Iorveth. I know that some of the dwarfs from Vergen were fighting on your side. I tell you even more: I regret I didn't...”  
“Really?” – he looked at her with growing interest.  
“Yes. I do believe in equality and freedom. I do believe, that we can create a better world, you know?”  
“I do” – he smiled gently at her, as she continued:  
“And I would like to help. I may look like a human but I'm not. I am one of the last of dying species and I don't intend to go without a fight. And Vergen... is now under Henselt's rule... He's a terrible king: he intends to get rid of Aen Seidhe and to subdue dwarfs. I would like to see Vergen free like you freed Dol Blathanna.”

There was fire in Saskia's voice when she talked about politics. Iorveth loved it the second he heard it. And the warm spark in her walnut eyes, when she talked about Vergen. He loved it, too. So, after a time, he said:  
“You are passionate and charismatic, aren't you?”  
“Yes” – she replied without a blink.  
“You can become a legend, can't you?” – he asked slowly.  
“A legend?” – she asked, narrowing her eyes with surprise and he replied:  
“Yes. The wind is changing. And Saskia the Dragonslayer... well... She could probably do anything she would wish to do.”  
“What are you saying?”  
“I'm saying that I may have a grandiose plan. And this time: I'm absolutely certain, that you will like it.”

She blushed slightly again but didn't avert her gaze. She was definitely interested in what he had to say. And Iorveth... well... he congratulated himself internally on finding a way to keep her... at least a little while longer.


	64. Meve Saovine 1269

MEVE

Saovine 1269  
Rivia  
Lyria and Rivia

Meve was standing in her office, looking at her son who was writing a letter to Foltest. He looked so mature... and now, he was so focused that he didn't even realise, that she was watching him with a proud smile on her lips. Not until he looked up at her and asked:  
“Do you think that we should be thankful? Or grateful?”  
“Glad” – she replied.  
“Yes. Glad sounds better” – he almost resumed writing, but asked: – “Mother? Are you all right?”  
“Yes, Vilem. I'm just happy to see you performing your duties. I'm proud of the man you've grown into.”

He was speechless for a while before he whispered:  
“Thank you, mother.”  
“My boy...” – she started but haven't finish. The door burst open and Reynard entered the office, saying:  
“Meve, Vilem, you have visitors. Her Highness Francesca Findabair is here.”  
“Francesca?” – Vilem asked, standing up.  
“Well... yes. We haven't expected...” – Reynard started, but Meve interrupted him:  
“We have. Viera suggested, that they may come.”

They looked at each other, but then all three rushed to the throne-room. After the official meeting, Meve invited all to the library where they could speak more... privately. There, as they took their seats, Viera and Coinneach started a very long tale.  
After the White Queen has heard the story, she stood up from her chair and went to the window. For a long time, she was pondering on what she has just heard.

_Consequences... so many consequences..._

Then, Meve turned around and stated slowly:  
“I will not have war with Aedirnians.”  
“No” – Viera agreed. – “But there are other ways...”  
“We can make sure that if Demawend and his only legitimate son were to disappear... I would be able to take the throne in Vengerberg. We have... a fair chance of doing it. But, if they were to be assassinated...”  
“People would grow suspicious... Still, there must be another way.”  
“Plague” – Ida, the Aen Saevherne, suggested coldly.  
“How many innocents would die...?” – Meve started with indignation, but Ida interrupted her quickly:  
“It's not what I've meant. If there was a person who would infect members of the court and the court would be... separated from the rest of the world... Only those inside would get sick and probably... die.”  
“If such an event was to be planned carefully... All right. What then?” – Meve asked.  
“Then, we would need to lure Emhyr into a war in the South. We, Lyrians and Rivians, would pretend that we stand alone... But Foltest's and Enid's forces would attack from the West. The Nilfgaardian Army would be in a trap” – Viera answered.  
“And it would be possible to smash them down for good. At least for a very long time.”  
“Indeed. Afterwards, we would meet with Emhyr and we would inform him, that we know what he has done. We would threat, that the truth about his marriage may come out, if...”  
“… he tried to attack us again” – Meve cut in and continued: – “Then, the main forces would move towards Pontar Valley and would settle the matter of Upper Aedrin. Obviously, we would need to get Foltest to agree to it, but we have something we can offer him. We may offer him our assistance in his... plans. What future we envision for Aedirn?”  
“Condominium and we will decide on the conditions later. But you, Meve, would take the seat in Vengerberg” – Enid replied slowly.

Afterwards, there was silence. Meve breathed heavily when she said:  
“I suppose we would need to put the last one in writing.”  
“Yes. We would” – Enid agreed slowly. – “And we would need to prepare swiftly. The clock is ticking.”  
“Are we still talking hypothetically?”  
“It depends solely on you, Meve. Are we?”

Meve's heart started to beat fast and unevenly. The last time she was planning a preventive attack... She ended up without her throne and her kingdom. As she was pondering in silence, Iorveth stated:  
“If it's any consolation, the matter of Pontar Valley may be easier to resolve, than you think.”  
“How come?” – Meve asked, looking at him questioningly.  
“I've met a woman who is a born leader. She is well-liked in Vergen and soon, she will be well respected, too. She is everything we need to start an uprising in Upper Aedirn.”  
“What do you mean by 'everything we need'?”  
“Charisma, determination and authority. She is not a noblewoman, but... I believe, that she can unite peasants and dwarfs. She can lead people, ordinary people, to a fight.”  
“You really think that it's enough?”  
“If not, you're still not risking anything at this point” – Viera joined their conversation. – “Let us support them in secret. If it works out, they'll be grateful. If not, we'll find another way to help Upper Aedirn get out of Henselt's hands.”

Meve looked at all of the visitors for a long time before she nodded slowly.

_If we are to go down... let it at least be splendid._


	65. Reynard Birke 1269

REYNARD

Birke 1269  
riverbank of the Newi  
Dol Angra

Two months has passed since the deadly and highly infectious Catriona plague attacked the court in Vengerberg. People were saying, that it was the Nilfgaardian ambassador, Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen, who brought the plague to Vengerberg. By the time, the Nilfgaardian small port-town Baccalá had already reported a thousand deaths of victims of the plague. Aedirnians were lucky, though. The court was immediately closed and under quarantine, and Catriona never spread beyond its walls. One third of the people closed in the palace died, including king Demawend and his only legitimate son, Stennis. The Nilfgaardian ambassador died, as well, along with many noblemen. Contrary to many plagues before, miraculously most of the servants in the palace survived this one.  
Aedirn was mourning the death of the king in fear of the plague, but it hasn't spread. Soon, a new king needed to be elected, because the line of the Aedirnian kings had ended. The kingdom was still in chaos after the war, it has lost lands and the threat of a new war with Nilfgaard was still hanging over it. So, Aedirnian nobility decided to make a bold move and to seek an alliance. Because they hated both the elves and Kaedweni... they chose Meve of the house Raven, although with one significant condition: she would give up her throne in Rivia for her son and the throne of Aedirn won't be hereditary – after her death an election would be held. Meve, obviously, agreed.  
A month later, parts of Aedirnian, Lyrian and Rivian armies were waiting for the Nilfgaardians at the riverbank of the river Newi. Temerian Sodden was taken by Nilfgaardians without a fight and the army led by marshal Morvran Voorhis was preparing to take Dol Angra, as well. Today in the morning it looked entirely possible from their point of view. What they didn't know, was that the unimportant bridge on Yaruga, the one near Red Port, was to become the hero of the war once more. With the help from Aen Seidhe from Dol Blathanna, the cavalry from Aedirn, Temeria, Dol Blathanna and Free Company were able to cross Angren unnoticed. And they weren't alone. The famous Mahakam Volunteer Army led by almost legendary colonel Barclay Els was marching with them, as well. Meve, Foltest and Vilem agreed to lower the taxes for dwarfish merchants and craftsmen to almost none in return for their help and it worked.  
This is why, while the Nilfgaardian infantry and cavalry in full force attacked the Nordling infantry, which was waiting for them at the riverbank, Nordlings from the middle of the formation started to move back, but the wings stood their ground. The Blacks were swallowed in a mouth of the multicoloured army – the cavalry deeper and the infantry followed them – and they were almost certain, that the victory was at hand. Then, the cavalry of the Northern kingdoms, which was waiting patiently down the river, attacked their backs, cut them in half and pushed them into a single line formation, where they were attacked from the front and from behind.  
Despite numbers and odds at their side – Nilfgaardians were defeated. The river Newi flowed in blood. Losses on both sides were great, but at last Reynard was standing near waving flags of Lyria and Rivia, Aedirn, Temeria, Mahakam and Dol Blathanna, watching the victorious battlefield. Meve, obviously in a full armour, joined him and stated with a smile:  
“Veni, vedi, vici.”  
“How will we pay for all of this, Meve? The loans...” – he whispered.  
“I know. We intend to impose ridiculously high taxes on all Nilfgaardian products. But what we really need is a strong economy in our kingdoms. Following years will be incredibly hard. But Francesca even agreed for our farmers to use at least some viable soil in Dol Blathanna. I, on the other hand, agreed to sell out metals, ores and fabrics to Dol Blathanna for incredibly low prices. We'll develop our metallurgical and textile industry. Still, before it bears fruits, we'll all need to economise.”  
“Your people are ready, Meve.”  
“In Lyria and Rivia, yes. But Aedirnians! Gods... the nobility had so many tax privileges, that they were barely paying anything to the crown... But it will end soon. They'll hate me, but they'll pay me. Especially, if the rebellion in Upper Aedirn works out. Did you have news from Vergen?”  
“Yes, colonel Els brought news from his kin. They will be ready soon. Dwarfs and humans from Upper Aedirn will fight together.”  
“Nobility?”  
“Well... not so much, but do we need them?”  
“I guess not. Those cowards will crawl to us after the fight is done. And then... they will pay Francesca in taxes.”  
“But people from Upper Aedirn will know, who helped them. You're gaining a reputation, you know, my love?” – Reynard whispered with a smile and Meve replied:  
“I...” – but she didn't finish.

Isengrim Faoiltiarna was approaching them quickly and with a very stern expression. The moment he got to them, he said:  
“It's a beautiful view from here.”  
“Indeed, general” – Reynard replied with a smile. – “How is Dol Blathannian cavalry?”  
“Good, marshal. Thank you. We lost men, but less than expected. The strategy worked.”  
“Indeed.”  
“But... I have bad news for you, I'm afraid.”  
“What happened?”  
“Neach asked me to tell you, that major Davell...”  
“What?!” – Meve and Reynard exclaimed simultaneously.  
“She was injured. Seriously injured. Shani is doing what she can, but... I won't lie to you: it doesn't look good.”

When they reached the medical tent, Reynard noticed at once Coinneach, who was standing motionless and looking absent-mindedly in the direction of the river. His usually calm face was now frozen. Reynard asked at once:  
“Coinneach? How's Viera?”  
“She was alive, when we found her” – he replied slowly and looked at him before he added: – “But since then she is on a surgical table. And... her wound... I'm afraid, that it requires a miracle-maker more than a surgeon. Even if they patch her up... She has lost so much blood, that...” – he paused, took a deep breath and stated quietly in the end: – “We need to wait.”

Reynard looked at the nearby tent and then he looked around. The soil was soaked with blood. He was a soldier and he knew, why they were fighting in this war. But... the landscape after the battle has never stopped to sadden him. Deeply.


	66. Saskia Feainn 1269

SASKIA

Feainn 1269  
Vergen  
Aedirn

Half a year after she has met Iorveth and quarter a year after the battle at the river Newi has taken place, Saskia was proudly standing at the Southern riverbank of the great river Pontar. But the road, which led her there, was a long one. When she came back to the Pontar Valley, she did what they had planned with Iorveth back in Dol Blathanna: she attacked Kaedweni garrison as a dragon, burned some fields on her way and disappeared into a cave deep in the mountains. Later, she emerged with dragon teeth and scales as Saskia, a human. Immediately, people started to call her the Dragonslayer. Her reputation rose quickly among humans and dwarfs in Upper Aedirn.  
Then, in some supposedly accidental conversation, she suggested the uprising to her dwarfish friends who picked up the idea at once. What started as a few supporters, soon turned into hundred and more. Preparations for the uprising took them the whole winter and spring. They used the old, Scoia'tael network in Kaedwen and urged every non-human to leave Kaedwen and join them in the Pontar Valley. The refugees came in thousands through the Blue Mountains. Also, thousand of volunteers came from both Lyria and Rivia and Dol Blathanna with resources and weapons.  
Two weeks ago, at the first day of the summer, the uprising started in Vergen and quickly spread throughout Pontar Valley. Fightings lasted for two whole weeks and were bloody. The last fight took place on the riverbank of the Pontar near Vergen but, in the end, Kaedweni were pushed back North, beyond the river. Now, the Free Pontar Valley has become a duchy within the kingdom ruled by Francesca Findabair who was crowned Queen once more after Meve, now Queen of Aedirn, gave up her rights to Dol Blathanna. After the uprising in the Pontar Valley, the dominion of the Elven Queen has become twice as large. The map of the Continent has been redrawn for good.  
Saskia was standing alone at the riverbank for a time but soon she heard footsteps and male voices:  
“Saskia!” – Yarpen Zigrin called her. – “Why are you here alone, lassie? We're preparing celebration in the city!”  
“We lost a lot of men, Yarpen” – she replied quietly.  
“Yes, but we gained freedom. Freedom we, dwarfs, haven't even dreamed of. We'll sing songs about those, who has fallen in our uprising...” – Zoltan started, but she continued for him:  
“… and we will care for and honour their graves. I know what I said before the battle, Zoltan. I remember.”  
“Yes, lassie. And those who fought beside you knew the risk. All: human peasants and dwarfs... even the elves, however I still don't like them too much” – Yarpen said. – “Now, big politics pushed us into white hands of the Elven Queen, who we trust very little, but much more than this Kaedweni bastard. And there is always Meve. The same Meve, who won twice against Nilfgaardians by now. This world, this new world, is worth fighting for, Saskia.”  
“Speaking of elves...” – Zoltan growled, looking to the South.

Saskia followed his gaze and soon found Iorveth. He was still in his dark-green, elven armour which was covered in splashes of blood. He approached them slowly but firmly. There was a smile on his face when their eyes met, but Saskia soon realised, that he was carrying something. As he stood in front of them, he greeted them:  
“Saskia, Master Zigrin, Master Chivay” – as they all replied (some quite grumpily), he continued: – “We've cleared the battlefield. Many wounded are treated in Vergen, but... We'll be fine.”  
“OK, thank you” – Saskia replied and smiled, asking: – “What are you carrying?”  
“Well, I've found this on the battlefield and I thought, that you may like it” – he said and smiled charmingly.

Zoltan and Yarpen growled something under their noses but soon gasped in owe, when Iorveth unfolded the unicorn banner of Kaedweni king. Then, Iorveth stated:  
“Now, you can treat it properly.”  
“And do what?” – Saskia asked.  
“I don't know... Burn it? Do some more disgusting or sophisticated things on it? Whatever you please, really” – at his reply, she giggled but stopped herself.

Iorveth smiled widely for a moment, but after a while his smile was replaced by a sad one, so Saskia asked:  
“What is it?”  
“Neach...” – he replied. – “He... got into quite a heated fight with the Dun Banner...”  
“We've heard, that he saved young Skalen Burdon” – Yarpen cut in.  
“Really?” – Iorveth asked sadly. – “Well, then at least it won't be in vain...”  
“Is he dead?” – Saskia asked in a whisper.  
“Not yet but close. We'll see. However... it doesn't look good.”  
“Gods... I'm so sorry, Iorveth” – she replied and quite instinctively caught his hand in hers.

Surprisingly, Yarpen and Zoltan didn't make any comment. In fact, they all headed together back to the city.

An hour later, Saskia found Iorveth on the walls, looking East. As she approached, he turned around and asked:  
“What are you doing here?”  
“I was looking for you” – she replied and smiled shyly.  
“You're missing the drinking contest... or has it already ended?”  
“No, it hasn't. I have a feeling, that it will go on until dawn.”  
“Well, they have a good reason to celebrate.”  
“We have” – Saskia corrected him and he looked at her with surprise, saying:  
“I'm not sure, if dwarfs see it this way.”  
“All of this wouldn't happen without your help” – she stated with a smile, but he replied more seriously:  
“No, Saskia. It wouldn't happen without you.”  
“All right, let's not argue about it. Do you have news from the hospital?” – she asked hopefully.  
“Nothing new” – he replied and looked away. – “I'm tired, you know? Will it ever end? The constant struggle... I have enough of it. I never thought that I'll say it, but... I want to go home, to have a fire burning quietly and good food... and to smoke pipe in peace and quiet... I want to grow old in peace, you know?”  
“Really?” – she asked quietly.  
“Yes.”  
“No grandiose plans?”  
“No. Just this.”  
“Just that?” – she asked in a different voice, raising her eyebrows. Then, he turned back to her and said with a charming smile:  
“Well, it would be nice to find a girl in the woods... But conscious, this time. In any form she would choose to be...”  
“For what you have in mind... this form is probably better” – Saskia smiled shyly again, but he replied, chuckling softly:  
“I'll keep it in mind.”

Then, she came closer to him and did what she wanted to do for some time by now. She kissed him gently at first, hesitatingly. But Iorveth... well, he wasn't 'take-it-slow' kind of man. He lifted her up swiftly and seated her on the low wall, holding firmly her back. Their kiss deepened and they lingered like this for a long time, forgetting about the world.


	67. Viera the night of Midinváerne 1271

VIERA

the night of Midinváerne 1271  
Sodden

The night of Midinváerne was commonly known as the night of magic. Well, Viera knew a lot about its power. Without Ida Emean aep Sivney she wouldn't survive the injury she got during the battle at the river Newi. Still, she needed months to heal and to regain her strength. This was the reason why she missed the whole uprising in the Pontar Valley. This was also the reason why Coinneach left her to go there alone. He, obviously, ended up at the verge of death, as well. Again, without the irreplaceable Aen Saevherne... Well, Viera didn't like even thinking about it.

_We were both incredibly lucky... Maybe we did something right, after all?_

She smiled and looked to her right. Coinneach was riding slowly, carefully scanning their surroundings. Next to him was Isengrim, now talking enthusiastically to Yarpen Zigrin. All in all, they were riding in a party of twenty and quite... unexpected company. Not now, now it was absolutely obvious, but seven, eight years ago... Well...  
From their usual company they were missing Toruviel, who was busy in Dol Blathanna as the captain of Enid's royal guard. They were also missing Edward, Iorveth and Saraid... They were also busy... but in completely different way. Edward and Eliza just had their second child, this time a girl. Iorveth and Saskia... well... it was a long story, but their son was the cutest child Viera has ever seen. And, the least expected good news was Saraid's pregnancy. When Viera was leaving in Velen, the Seidhe had just started the second trimester.  
“Viera?” – she heard Coinneach's voice.  
“Yes?” – she asked.  
“Why are you smiling to yourself?”  
“Oh, I'm just wondering... I hope that we'll be back in Dol Blathanna on time.”  
“Saraid?”  
“Yeah... Saraid and Lóegairen would like you to be there.”  
“At this pace we'll be there even a few weeks before the date.”  
“True, but we haven't found a thing, even a trace, Neach... Anywhere we go, we're too late and we can only hear out stories of victims' families. It's more than twenty already. You know... when Foltest asked Meve for a favour and we went to Temeria... For a time, I believed that it's all just a story. The Wild Hunt? Really? Wraiths galloping through the night sky...” – she shook her head doubtfully before she added: – “But now, I don't know... And this year it's supposedly worse... It's just so strange” – Viera finished pensively and Neach just replied.  
“We'll just keep heading South for the next week and then we give up and go back home, OK?”  
“OK.”

It was dusk, but they decided to rode a few miles further. Sodden here was a deserted plain. They were riding on the road (more a path, really) South from Kagen for two days and met no one on their way. Only from time to time there were small copses, but apart from the scarce trees, there were only low grass and small bushes.  
That day, there was nothing on the horizon in any direction. It was cold and a freezing wind was blowing from the North. Viera was just to say, that it's time to make a camp, when Coinneach exclaimed:  
“There is something a few miles ahead!”

It took her a long time to see it, but indeed: there was a strange glow in the middle of this deserted plain. They rode ahead with weapons at the ready. Viera was still very far from believing in anything, but... The closer they've got, the more she was certain that there were people gathered on the spot they were heading to.  
Soon, Viera counted more than a hundred riders and some humans... probably bound, because they weren't moving. Then, she noticed a huge tree and many people hanged on its branches. Even closer she realised, that the people around the tree were fighting. Their party galloped in the middle of the crowd and the fight immediately got heated.  
The men they were fighting against were cloaked in strange, skeleton-like armour. As she tried to cut a few of them she understood, that their armour was invincible. The warriors were high but slender. Still, her strength was nothing against theirs and all she could do was to dodge blows and look for a weakness which she couldn't really find. As she looked around, she also understood that her party was trapped. A second later, she noticed that Isengrim just fell to his knees and a man was ready to kill him. Viera jumped in his direction and managed to redirect the blow. In the meantime, Isengrim got up, but his hood fell down. The attacker froze, looking in disbelief at Isengrim and at her. Then, he called to the others in a language she didn't recognise and... they all retreated, mounted their horses and made off, leaving them all behind.  
Viera and Isengrim looked at each other with shock. He was still bewildered, as she called to the rest:  
“How are we?”  
“All alive and fine. It is a miracle taking into consideration what was happening here a minute ago” – Coinneach replied, approaching them. – “What did he say?” – he asked.  
“I have no idea...” – Viera said slowly. – “He wasn't speaking Hen Llinge... Nilfgaardian?” – she guessed.  
“No” – Isengrim answered slowly. – “It wasn't Nilfgaardian...”  
“Who are you?” – unknown female voice asked with difficulty from behind them.

As they all turned around, they've noticed a man with white hair and many scars who was almost carrying a woman with raven-black hair... and a necklace with an obsidian star... Viera's eyes were fixated on the necklace, as she asked:  
“Who, the fuck, are YOU?”  
“Yennefer of Vengerberg” – the woman replied slowly.  
“But you are dead!” – Viera exclaimed not really politely.  
“Close, but not yet. We probably would be, if not for your arrival.”

Viera looked with shock at the man at her side before she said:  
“Then you must be... Geralt of Rivia.”  
“Yes. Why must I be?” – the man asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly.  
“Well” – Viera looked at both of them and raised one eyebrow. – “I know Jaskier. All he sings about is the two of you...”  
“Oh” – they chuckled, but Yennefer looked exhausted.  
“Who are you? It's a more pressing question for me.”

Three men just came closer and one of them spoke slowly. He was strongly built and was carrying two swords on his back. Viera scrutinised him but still replied:  
“You first.”  
“All right” – he said. – “My name is Letho of Gulet. And those two are Auckes and Serrit” – he pointed at men standing behind him.  
“All right. My name is colonel Viera Davell. And the Seidhe beside me are colonel Coinneach Da Réo and general Isengrim Faoiltiarna.”  
“Well... this will certainly be interesting. Later” – Yennefer said slowly and leaned even heavier on Geralt.

They all looked at each other with disbelief, but soon Coinneach decided that they need to make the camp.


	68. Coinneach the night of Midinváerne 1271

COINNEACH

the night of Midinváerne 1271  
Sodden

It was late in the evening, as he and Viera were lying together in the tent. It was cold, but they were keeping each other warm. He realised that they have been together for more than two years and he already couldn't imagine life without her. Without her sarcasm and smirks. Without her quiet kindness and unconditional loyalty. And without her lips on his...  
“Ah! Did you just bite me there?” – he exclaimed.  
“Yes” – she replied when her face emerged from under the blanket and there was a mischievous grin on it, as she asked: – “Did it hurt?”  
“Are you kidding?”  
“You have so few nerves down there, that I thought...” – she started almost innocently, but he didn't let her finish:  
“Now, I'm going to bite you.”  
“No!” – she half-screamed, half-giggled when he moved down her body and bite her incredibly sensitive spot very, very gently. So gently in fact, that she actually kind of enjoyed it.

A long time later, Viera was lying next to him but still wasn't asleep. Coinneach could feel, that she was tensed, so he asked:  
“Are you all right, ma mienne?”  
“Sure” – she replied immediately.  
“Viera?” – he asked again.

This time she took a deep breath, still not looking at him, before she said:  
“I'm thinking... Now, we're going back to Vengerberg. And what are we going to do next?”  
“I don't know. We'll see, I guess” – he replied.  
“Didn't you want to stay at home for a while?”  
“Yes, we can.”  
“And...” – she trailed off, so Neach urged her once more:  
“Yes?”

She was silent for a time but in the end she spoke:  
“Neach... what if... what if we...”  
“Ma mienne, stop thinking about it” – he replied at once, turning to face her.  
“I know that it is what you want.”  
“And you?”  
“I... yes, I do. But still we may...”  
“I love you” – he replied at once. Then, she turned to him and said:  
“I love you, too.”  
“And this is enough for me. Anything more would be a blessing, but anything less would be unbearable.”  
“Me mienne... Don't feel this way... I'm going to...” – she trailed off and he stated with tension in his voice:  
“No, don't say what you wanted to say. I know. But we have time.”  
“OK.”  
“OK.”

There was a silence again before she said:  
“I need to make a stop in Rivia and gather the reports. Then, I'd like to visit Rastburg and Davlin.”  
“Obviously” – he replied calmly.  
“Then, we'll head to Dol Blathanna first.”  
“Yes.”  
“And we'll have new recruits already in Birke in Vengerberg. I'll need to supervise their training.”  
“I remember. I believe that we'll get there on time.”  
“OK.”  
“Anything else on your list?” – Neach asked smirking and Viera replied with a smirk, as well:  
“Yennefer of Vengerberg. Her meeting with Meve shall be interesting.”  
“Probably.”  
“She won't stay at court. But... she may agree to visit from time to time.”  
“And Meve doesn't really want to have a mage at court, so it should be a perfect arrangement.”  
“We'll see.”  
“Are we going to sleep?” – he asked hopefully, but she only whispered:  
“Yeah...”

This time Neach rolled his eyes before he asked:  
“What is it really about?”  
“Who were they, Neach? The warriors we encountered today?” – Viera asked.  
“The Wild Hunt?”  
“Weren't they suppose to be wraiths? Those men... were real. I'm sure of it.”

He was silent for a moment but then he said slowly:  
“I don't know.”  
“And they've disappeared like a wind...” – she continued nervously.  
“We can ask Ida...”

Viera was silent for a long time before she whispered:  
“I have the feeling, that she won't give us answers this time...”  
“Why?” – he asked, looking at her questioningly.  
“The language he was speaking... It was so similar to Hen Llinge, Neach...”  
“What are you saying?”  
“You've probably heard, that you're not the only one of your race... I've read that once the elves were one people: Aen Undod, but then...” – she hesitated.  
“The Aen Elle left this world... Are you saying...?” – he trailed off asking.  
“Yes. And if it's true... we must make sure that no one will ever understand what we've just realised. They're killing humans, taking them somewhere... No one can know this, Neach. No one. Ever.”

They looked at each other with tension, but soon he pulled her closer and they fell asleep, hugging each other closely.


	69. Yennefer Yule 1271

YENNEFER

Yule 1271  
Sodden

Her head hurt impossibly. She was still dazed and had difficulty with focusing on anything. Yennefer felt, as if she was still waking up from a trans. Magically induced trans. She remembered...

_Our orchard... and the riders... Then, there was nothing until I saw the fire and the tree. And Geralt. Geralt's face, hovering over me, almost suffocating me in the process..._

Her grip on Geralt's back tightened automatically. He looked at her and Yennefer only said:  
“I need to sit down. And water. Give me water.”

Geralt took her away from the tree. The party they've just met started to prepare the camp and soon, Geralt took her to one of the tents. As they were entering it, she looked upon the tree which now was set on fire.

Probably several hours later, Geralt's movement woke her up. They were lying on something incredibly uncomfortable, so she said with irritation:  
“Where are we? My back!”  
“Yen” – he whispered. – “We're in a tent.”  
“Not my tent. There's no bed. Were we sleeping on blankets? No wonder I'm in bruises!”  
“Yen... How much do you remember about yesterday?”  
“I...” – she trailed off and he was looking at her worriedly.

Some images were coming back to her in waves. She couldn't make anything sensible out of them, so she said angrily:  
“I don't know! Geralt...”  
“You were taken by the Wild Hunt” – he replied slowly.  
“What?”  
“The Wild Hunt. I don't understand much of it either, but I was searching for you for a year and a half.”  
“What?!” – Yennefer sat up immediately.  
“And if it wasn't for the people who came to our aid... I'm not sure what would happen.”  
“Who came to our aid?”  
“That's the interesting part. Meet me outside. The breakfast is waiting for us.”

It took her half an hour to look like a person again and she left the tent. They were in a small camp. In the centre there was a fire and some twenty-five people were sitting near to it. She didn't recognise any of them... until she noticed the man with a scar on his face. The last time she has seen this scar was on Thanedd and her memories of the meeting with this particular Scoia'tael commander weren't the best, so she growled:  
“Scoia'tael? This really is the interesting part.”  
“Not exactly, Yennefer. Scoia'tael are no more...” – a woman replied. But she wasn't a Seidhe, she was a human. Yennefer raised her eyebrows and replied with sarcasm:  
“Don't say... There was never much hope for any other ending...”  
“Yennefer... Scoia'tael are Dol Blathannian army now. Do you remember Her Grace, Francesca Findabair?” – the woman continued.  
“Her Grace? Is she a queen again? What did she do to Demawend? Fucked him? No... that would be disgusting. Killed him?” – Yennefer asked with irony and raised her eyebrow.  
“Ahem...” – the woman cleared her throat, before she said: – “You've missed a lot.”  
“Then, what are you waiting for...?! Whoever you are” – she looked at the woman pointedly and she introduced herself:  
“Colonel Viera Davell.”  
“Ha! Already a colonel? Well, the famous Manticore is certainly getting promoted quickly.”  
“There was a war...”  
“Again? With Nilfgaard?”  
“Yes.”  
“Oh, all right. I have enough of these shreds of information” – the sorceress stated indignantly and ordered: – “Start talking.”

Probably an hour later, Yennefer was observing all of the people around her attentively.

_I left for two years! Two years and they've already redrawn the map of the Continent!_

The sorceress shook her head and asked:  
“So, little Keira Metz is the sorceress at Rivian court...”  
“Yes” – Viera replied.  
“And who is in Vengerberg?”  
“Well, Yennefer... I think, that Meve may consider it... After all, you are the Yennefer of Vengerberg. And we have something in common.”  
“Do we?”  
“Oh, yes. We know certain thing about a certain person. We want to make sure, that neither Phillipa nor... others will ever have a chance to lay their hands on this certain person.”  
“And why is that?” – Yennefer asked suspiciously.  
“Because we believe in freedom, choices and opportunities... And if this certain person, out of free will, was to make a choice sometime in the future... we would provide the opportunity” – Viera said mysteriously, but Yennefer narrowed her eyes, asking:  
“And if not?”  
“The secret will die with us.”  
“Just like that?”  
“Yes. You have my word” – the Lyrian colonel stated seriously.

Yennefer took her time before she replied. She wondered about all ulterior motives behind this offer and possible consequences. In the end, she decided, that it's good to have friends close, but one should have even hypothetical enemies even closer, so she said:  
“OK. I'm going to meet with Meve.”

Geralt looked at her pointedly, sighed and asked resignedly:  
“Are you?”  
“Yes” – she replied.  
“Didn't we enjoy... being dead?”  
“And what with Jaskier? Haven't you just heard how hurt he is?!” – she asked almost innocently, but he replied ironically:  
“And you care so much for Jaskier's feelings, don't you?”  
“Always.”  
“Obviously.”

Geralt shook his head with resignation, but Yennefer looked at the people around her with a small smile.

_If it doesn't work out... we can always die again._


	70. Pantea the eve of Lammas 1278

Witcher book series related characters, places and themes belong to Andrzej Sapkowski. The Witcher games related characters, places and themes belong to CD Projekt Red. Characters, places and themes related to other works, especially by J.R.R. Tolkien and George R.R. Martin, belong to their authors or legal successors.

THE LYRIAN TALES

EPILOGUE

PANTEA

the eve of Lammas 1278  
the Royal Palace  
Vengerberg  
Aedirn

Since Pantea Ateia was a child, she has dreamed of becoming a famous bard. She was ten when for the first time she has seen one of the most famous bards in their world: Jaskier or rather – as he was called in Toussaint – Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove. Then, as she heard him sing, she understood that this is what she wanted to do in the future. Growing up she realised, that she made the right choice and only convinced herself in her resolution: one day everyone will quote her songs. Everyone will know her name and will know her lyrics by heart. And the stories written by bards more frequently than not are becoming history – almost no one reads books written by scholars for a few. No... What people know as history is what the bards sing: the memories of persons and peoples, frozen in time by poets. And Pantea wanted this kind of power over people's imagination.  
Thankfully, later it turned out that her voice was great for singing ballads and thanks to training she received as an adolescent, she was on the right track to achieve her goal. Toussaint, her home, was an old land full of wonders, knights-errant and their stories. Knights of Toussaint were chivalrous, honourable and good people (at least most of them) and at the beginning of her career, their tales made great material for her first ballads. She sang about great deeds, valour and unconditional loyalty, about monsters, bandits and the triumph of righteousness over evil. She was writing about the Toussaint she knew and loved, but it wasn't enough for her.  
When she was twenty-one-year-old, Pantea Ateia left her home in Toussaint and started her journey. She decided to discover the world, its wonders and tales. During her journey, she has seen kingdoms of the South and of the North. And it was in the North where she realised that there are stories which haven't been sung by human bards. The stories of secretive people, too proud and too wary to share them. The stories of the Aen Seidhe. Elves appeared in many tales and ballads sung by human bards, obviously, but always in the background, no more than supporting characters or even antagonists.  
But the world, their world, has been changing. Today, lands between the Dragon Mountains in the North, the Blue Mountains in the East, the Amell Range and Mount Gorgon in the South and the Kestrel Mountains and Mahakam in the West were under the rule of a very unlikely alliance of two queens: Francesca Findabair and Meve of the house Raven. Today, no one would dare to call a Seidhe a pariah, even less a slave, but humans still knew very little about them. It still was like Hen Gedymdeith wrote a long time ago: _They, although so resembling us, were alien. So very alien that, for a long time, we could find no word for their strangeness._  
Everyone knew that something has changed after the third war between the Nordlings and Nilfgaard, but what was it? It was a mystery. Historians were fiercely debating about it. How was it possible, that in ten years from people fighting for freedom the Aen Seidhe has become the second most powerful People in the North? There were many theories, too. Some said, that Francesca Findabair put a spell on Meve and used her excessive sorcery powers to abuse the Lyrian Queen. Others said, that it was actually mutually beneficial political alliance which strengthened both Queens and their Kingdoms. There were also those, who claimed that after the second Nilfgaardian war nothing was impossible any more...  
But Pantea Ateia wasn't a historian, she was a bard and was much more interested in 'people's perspective'. This was the reason why she was travelling through the North and asking questions about Aen Seidhe, Scoia'tael and Queen Meve. She was looking for any connection, any reason for the alliance. Anything really. For five years, she was searching with no luck, any rumours she has heard were no more than that: rumours. Until, at the beginning of 1278, she stayed for a while in the Rosemary and Thyme (also called Chameleon) in Novigrad. There she met not only with Jaskier himself but also with his friend and partner, Priscilla. After the initial formalities and pleasantries, Pantea said at last:  
“Jaskier... I have a question for you.”  
“Ask, my dear friend. You know... after you told us your story and how I inspired you to become a bard... I will tell you anything. Anything you ask” – the bard exclaimed with pathos.  
“As you probably know, most of my ballads are about Aen Seidhe.”  
“I do, I do! It's fascinating! To tell the truth: for a long time I believed that you must be at least an inh'eid. But now I see, that I was wrong.”  
“Well... I just find them fascinating.”  
“We all do, I guess.”  
“I was thinking... you are a famous bard, a man who knows the world and people” – she realised a while ago that flattery may get her exactly where she wanted and was probably right because Jaskier replied enthusiastically again:  
“Obviously!”  
“So maybe you know, how it happened that Lyria and Dol Blathanna first forged the alliance. Just after the war. The alliance which now rules over more than half of the North.”

After Pantea asked her question, Jaskier looked at Priscilla with hesitation. They were both looking at each other and at Pantea for a time before the man answered:  
“I made an oath... For... well... the forgiveness of my deeds in the past, I promised never to sing about it.”  
“Toss a coin to your witcher...” – Pantea guessed quickly.  
“Yes. It was... indiscreet and wrong. Now, I'm paying the price with silence, which I hate the most. Because this story! Ha! It's a story worth singing about. There are tragic death and blood, undying hope and the most unexpected love... Everything to make a great poem!”  
“But you can't talk about it...”  
“No. I can't, but...” – Jaskier paused, looking at her attentively. – “You, Pantea, you have never been disrespectful. You... They may share the tale with you.”  
“Do you think so?” – Pantea asked hopefully.  
“Yes. I'll write a letter of recommendation for you, it may open you some doors. Go to Vengerberg and find Lyrian general, Viera Davell.”  
“The Manticore?! Would she... I don't know... Talk to me? Gods... she is a legend!”  
“I think... I think that she may. But you will probably have more luck with colonel Coinneach Da Réo. He understands the requirements of poetry much better” – Jaskier smiled, but added: – “I cannot tell you more.”

This is how Pantea Ateia ended up slowly climbing stairs of the Royal Palace in Vengerberg. She knew, that now it was Queen Meve who had a seat there, while her son – king Vilem – was ruling in Rivia. The palace was vast and elegant but simple. It was made of dark-grey stones but the facade was decorated with some reliefs and the portal was richly ornamented.  
At the gate, she handed a guard cloaked in Aedirnian colours the letter from Jaskier. The man read it and nodded. Then, he led her to the yard behind the palace. That night was the eve of Lammas and everyone was rushing somewhere, preparing the celebrations. Similarly to the streets of Vengerberg, in the palace there were humans, Seidhe and dwarfs in probably equal proportions. And... unlike in Redania and some other Northern kingdoms... no one cared. But Pantea was led to a man, who was just supervising preparations for the feast. The guard left her, telling her to go with the letter to him. Pantea approached him slowly and asked:  
“Major Edward Harrin?”  
“Yes?” – he looked at her with surprise.  
“I'm looking for general Davell.”  
“She's busy” – he replied quickly but scrutinised her again and asked: – “Who are you?”  
“Pantea Ateia... I have a letter from Jaskier” – she replied with a polite smile.  
“Hmm... You may look for her during the celebrations. How do you know Jaskier?”  
“I... am a bard, too. From Toussaint.”  
“Oh... OK. Do you need anything?”  
“No, thank you. I guess... I just wait here for the celebrations.”  
“Do you have a room?”  
“Yes, in the tavern.”  
“Then you're lucky. We have many guests and I've heard, that the city is full.”  
“It is... I paid a ridiculous amount of money for that room.”  
“And you may have paid in vain” – the major stated slowly. – “Viera doesn't talk to strangers or to bards. Maybe but for Jaskier and Priscilla.”  
“Why?” – Pantea asked with worry.  
“She knows Geralt and Yennefer... She doesn't want to become a... celebrity.”  
“Oh... well...”  
“Yeah. Still, if you wish, try to find her tonight.”

In the evening, the yard of the Royal Palace was lighted by many lanterns. There were tables full of food and barrels of wine. Trees were decorated with multicoloured ribbons. People were sitting and talking, walking and playing and the view was rather idyllic. Pantea walked slowly through the yard, observing this heterogeneous crowd and smiled to herself.

_I should have been spending more time in Aedirn... I love it here._

But as she reached the main table, she noticed many children playing with a ball nearby. Few men were watching over them and conversing. After a moment, one of them was approached by a woman. She was in her late thirties and wore black, matching her raven-black, short hair. She walked like a soldier and Pantea soon realised that everyone, who the woman had passed, bowed respectfully, some even saluted to her. Pantea was almost certain that she found the person she was looking for.  
The woman came to one of the men, kissed him, smiled at the children and left again, heading to the Royal Palace. Pantea approached the man and held her breath. He was a Seidhe, but she knew many Seidhe. Still, this particular man... well... was handsome. Really handsome. She hesitated for a moment before she started to talk to him and in the meantime, two six- or maybe seven-year-old girls came running to him. As Pantea observed them closer, she noticed that the girls were twins. One of them stated:  
“Dad!”  
“Arwen, what happened?” – the man asked at once.  
“Where is mum? She was here a moment ago, I've seen her” – the girl replied.  
“She needed to meet with someone.”  
“Whom?”  
“Yennefer of Vengerberg and Geralt of Rivia. They're both our guests tonight.”  
“Geralt is here? Will he come to us?” – the other girl asked.  
“Yes, Luthien. They're staying for a while in Vengerberg.”  
“Will they join us tomorrow? On celebrations of the beginning of harvest?”  
“I think so, yes. At least Geralt. I'm afraid, that Yennefer may be too busy for that, as well as your mother.”  
“She told us... But it's our birthday...” – Arwen stated sadly and pouted.  
“I know, sweetheart. I know. But things are changing and she may be needed. But I promise, that we'll have fun and she'll join us as soon as possible.”  
“Neach!” – another Seidhe called and joined them. – “Arwen, Luthien, boys are waiting for you with the game and they're growing impatient.”

The girls giggled and ran back to the group of children. Pantea recognised at once the newcomer. It wasn't hard taking into consideration, that his scar was arguably the most famous scar in their world. He was no other than Isengrim Faoiltiarna and he called the man she was observing 'Neach', which meant, that he was probably the man Jaskier suggested she should try to talk to. So Pantea gathered her courage and made a few steps before she asked:  
“Colonel Coinneach Da Réo?”

The Seidhe turned to her and looked at her questioningly before he asked in a commanding voice, so unlike the voice he was using when he was talking to his daughters:  
“Who's asking?”  
“My name is Pantea Ateia” – she replied a little bit fearfully.  
“Hmm... I've heard about you” – he said slowly, still scrutinising her.  
“Really?” – she asked with surprise and he replied seriously:  
“Yes. You're the bard from Toussaint, who's asking strange questions... and then singing songs based on no more than rumours.”  
“I... yes” – she replied quietly.  
“Hmm... why are you here, then?”  
“Jaskier suggested, that I can find some answers here...”  
“Jaskier? Ha! He can't sing about us himself, so he's sending a spy. That's interesting.”  
“I'm not a spy. I'm just a bard.”  
“Obviously. He was claiming just the same for a long time, but he was working for Redanians... and Temerians... and now he's working for us.”  
“I... I didn't know.”  
“Then, he's not such a fool, after all” – the man smirked and after a while, he added: – “And you've found the right man. Why were you looking for me?”  
“I wanted to learn the truth. The real story. And Jaskier suggested that I should find general Viera Davell, but she won't talk to me. Then he said, that you might.”

Coinneach chuckled for a moment and nodded, saying:  
“No, she won't speak with you. And she most certainly wouldn't be happy, that you are interested in her. Or us. But... the truth... Maybe it is time to tell it?” – he looked at her attentively, before he added: – “Join us tomorrow on the harvest. I need to talk to a few people before I say more.”  
“The harvest? You're celebrating harvest?” – she asked in surprise.  
“Obviously. More than half of our population is human and many of them are farmers. At the beginning of Lammas, we're celebrating the beginning of the harvest and at the end we're celebrating its end.”  
“I... oh... “  
“You didn't know.”  
“I didn't.”  
“Things have changed and are still changing. _Panta rhei_ ” – he smiled. – “Meet me tomorrow.”

The next day, she travelled on horseback to the fields surrounding Vengerberg. There she found many people and the man she was looking for. As she approached him, he smiled at her and introduced her to two girls standing next to him:  
“Arwen, Luthien, this is Pantea Ateia, the bard from Toussaint. Miss Ateia, my daughters: Arwen is today in blue and Luthien in violet, so that you can tell which one is which.”

The girls chuckled but greeted her politely. Pantea looked at them and said:  
“Well, you really are identical, aren't you?”  
“No. Our parents don't need colours to tell, but... it makes things easier” – Luthien replied.  
“I see” – she said, but the girls laughed again and Arwen said to Coinneach:  
“Dad, we're going.”  
“OK. Just don't leave my sight” – he replied warmly.  
“We know.”

The colonel smiled and watched them go to the group of children, mostly humans who were sitting nearby and talking. Then, Coinneach looked at her and stated:  
“Viera is very unhappy, but Enid somehow convinced her, that your ballads may be a good... let's say... way to share a bit about us. What do you want to know?”  
“Everything” – Pantea replied at once.  
“Everything? Where am I to start, then?”  
“Why it is you, who is the key to the story?”  
“Me? Hardly... I'm the supporting character. If anyone... it's probably Viera. She may be the key.”  
“Why?”  
“Because the love of my life and the mother of my beautiful daughters is the most complex person in the world, at least as far as I know.”  
“So... how have you met?”  
“We'll get there. But I must suggest, that it's not the beginning of the story.”  
“Isn't it?”  
“No. The story begins in Blathe 1233, in the Amell Range near Erlenwald. And this part of the story you will sing about because we are asking you to do so.”  
“So... am I to be your voice? To tell people what you want them to hear?”  
“Yes. But also the truth.”  
“Truth? About what?”  
“The Lion Cub of Cintra, the real Queen of Cintra and... heiress to the throne of Nilfgaardian Empire: Cirilla Fiona Ellen Riannon, daughter of Pavetta, Princess of Cintra and Emhyr var Emreis. The Child Surprise, Lady of Space and Time, who now decided to take back what is rightfully hers. If you promise to sing about the Lost Heiress and the Betrayer... I'll tell you our story, as well.”  
“Gods! But... But I will have enough tales for ballads for the rest of my days!”  
“Yes. And you, Miss Ateia, will become a legend yourself. You will be the voice of history people will learn and everyone will know your poems by heart. And even after we'll be long gone, people will remember our names. Do we have a deal?” – he asked with a smile in the end.

Pantea was speechless for a time, but a new female voice said sarcastically from behind her back:  
“Oh, me mienne, she would need to be retarded to refuse.”

Coinneach chuckled, but Pantea turned around to look upon a very intimidating woman who just joined them. From the distance, the bard didn't realise this but now... now all she could do is to bow respectfully to the general, who addressed her in a demanding voice, saying:  
“And I want to read everything before you sing anything. I'm your censor and you won't like it. But... I promise not to change too much.”

The Seidhe chuckled again when Viera approached him and kissed him. Then, the woman looked one more time at Pantea and headed to her daughters. Pantea... well... breathed heavily.

_There is always a price and the more you want the higher it is._

She thought before she reached to her small bag for parchment and a quill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers,  
> va'esse deireádh aep eigean, va'esse eigh faidh'ar.
> 
> The long journey ends here, but you can check out my other stories from the Witcher universe series – "Tales from the Witcher Universe". 
> 
> Part 1 – "The Aen Seidhe Tales":  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17863994/chapters/42156875.
> 
> Part 2 – "The Skelliger Tales":  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17882618/chapters/42209558.
> 
> Part 3 – “The Lyrian Tales”:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/24213775/chapters/58337275.
> 
> And, from Harry Potter universe, the new series was just published – "Tales from the Wizarding World".
> 
> Part 1 – "A Liar and a Traitor":  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25525150/chapters/61930438.


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